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FHE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


E  WILMER  COLLECTION 
F  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 
PRESENTED  BY 

:HARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


"B>\^l}E  m  Q^fiY" 


OR, 


5u;o  Oatf75  ai?^  5f7r(^<^  U/ar9i9(j5, 


By   loiljisian:a, 


1855. 


.r^  ^:^^l^^^^^  .^.4^^S  <^4,^^';%-'' '%5^9  ^  ^ 


^^ 


^^^-^^'^'^  ■'^'^^' 


» 


SS^^^S^^^^gs-^^^^-^^^^jJ^^^V^f^^^'^cfXp 


Timidly  we  launch^  at  this  late  date,  upon  the  broad 
stream  of  universal  criticism,  this  simple  little  story , 
written  in  the  spring  of  i8y6,  woven  from  some  actual 
■occitrences  of  our  late  Civil  War,  and  its  subsequent 
gloomy  days — slightly  shading  the  original,  or  presenting 
in  brighter  colors  some  of  its  darker  hues. 

An  allusion  to  '^Oiir  Governor,"  Chapter  VIII,  was 
cur  people's  choice — that  brave,  high=toned  gentleman, 
Francis  T.  Nicholls^  and  though  our  seated  President 
was  called  a  ^fra^id  " — we  as  a  grateful  people  should 
■ever  remember  that  it  ivas  he  who  first  did  justice  to 
our  suffering  State  in  recognizing  its  people's  choice. 

And  of  the  prophesy  regarding  our  Crescent,  Chaj^ter 
VIII ^  is  she  not  indeed  Queen  of  our  Sunny  South  in  her 
two  grand  Expositions? 


Unavoidable  circumstances  combined  in  preventing 
the  publication  of  this  little  mork  previously^  yet  we  trust 
it  may  have  been  ^'all  for  the  best,"  hoping  that  it  will 
now  be  received  by  both  the  ^^(Blue  and  Gray"  as  it  is  in= 
tended — a  cementing,  or  peace=offering. 

Our  mind  m>ay  not  be  stored  with  lore  or  logic,  and 
far  front  brilliant,  yet  we  disdain  usehss  poUysyllahles^ 
aiming  but  to  indite  a  plain  sensible  recital,  according 
'^ honor  to  whom,  honor  is  due,"  therefore,  earnestly  plead 
for  leniency  from  the  gifted  and  wise,  and  as  charity  and 
generosity  are  noble  traits,  we  entreat  their  combined  as= 
sistanceto  aid  us  in  our  humble  endeavor  to  please,  trusts 
ing  that  something  in  the  following  pages  may  point  a 
moral  for  the  lasting  benefit  of  some  careless  soul,  from 
am^ong  a  discerning  public. 

The  Author. 


»/t-^ 


^imL:-^^ 


LjrnjiJii 


1  I  I  I  !■! 


^  ttf  ijf  tjf  iff  iii  ^i  i^  iff  Iff^  4f  rjf  i|f  i^  "4? '^ 


Hofinor  that  this  slight  testimony  of  respect  zuill  not  be 
coiistrued  into  one  of  p7'estcmption^  J  zvotdd  most  respect ftilly 
dedicate  this  small  simple  zvork  to  the 

BaUalien  ISas^inflen  ^Flillepy, 

NEW   ORLEANS, 

in  memory  of  a  dear  young  Kentztcky  friend^  who  joined 
this  old  tiiue-honored  command  just  as  it  was  about  to 
depart  for  the  seat  of  zuar  in  our  old  Mother  State^  but 
whose  career  of  fa7ne  as  a  soldier,  to  which  he  most  ardently 
aspired,  was  suddenly  arrested  by  the  relentless  grasp  of 
death. 

A  stranger  in  our  Crescent  City,  neve7'theless  honored,  his 
remains  zvere  followed  to  one  of  her  cemeteries  by  a  large 
concourse  of  her  notably  sympathizing  citizens, 

''  Sleep  dearest  sleeps  I  love  yon  as  a  brother^ 

Kind  friends  around  you  xveep 
r  II  hiss  you  for  your  mother,'''* 

The  Author. 


^^j^j%j^?jC:i?^<^gS;g?^^^^^i^ij?-^gbdj;;Q?^dbd^;rbibcrbJb 


r\   \   \   v^   \   \  _\   \   \   \   \   \   \   \   \   \   \    \   \   \   \   \ 

m  ®  ®^®  ®"®  ®m  ®  ® "®  ®  ®  ®  k 


1- 


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/  /  /  /  /  /  /  /  /  /  /  /  /  /  /  Vl 

TTTlttTttTiitTlTtrTITITITtTtriTTTriTrTTTTTTTT 

''gifue  f\nj)  GReiy," 

OR, 

^v/o  Oatl^^  and  ^l^p^e  Wapnin^e. 


CHAPTKR  1. 

When  cruel  war  swept  o'er  the  land, 

Carnage  was  rife  on  every  side, 
Death,  destructive  with  broad  hand 

Opened  dark  graves  portals  wide, 
And  there  infolds  friend  as  foe 

In  long  last  sleep  on  beds  of  claj, 
Leaving  behind  hearts  full  of  woe 

That  feel  the  pang  for  endless  day. 

.,^,REAT  Heavens  I    What  have  I  done?    How  careless  ! 


How  thoughtless!  Can  she  be  dead?  No,  thank 
God  she  is  not — she  seems  to  be  recovering.  Who 
can  she  be?  I'm  sure,  I  never  saw  this  lovely  face  before." 
These  with  numerous  like  exclamations  and  interrogations 
were  uttered  in  a  vehement  manner  and  in  rapid  succession  by 
a  tall  handsom.e  noble-browed  young  man  attired  in  a  seedy 
looking,  shabby  gray  uniform,  as  he  fairly  leaped  upon  the 
bank,  bent  over  quickly  and  tenderly  raised  the  head  of  a  fair 
young  woman,  who  lay  limp  and  apparently  lifeless,  on  the 
grassy  mound  or  levee  embankment,  on  which  she  had  been 
so  suddenly  thrown.  ^ 


BLUE  AND  GRAY 


The  first,  and  most  natural  inquiry  is,  Wlio  is  this  woman? 
What  business  liad  she  alone  on  so  lonel}^  a  path,  to  be  sub- 
jected to  such   misfortune  or  found  in  so  critical  a  condition. 

Allow  me  the  sensational  novel  writer's  privilege,  kind 
reader,  of  tampering  with  your  curiosity  ;  as  it  is  utterl}^  im- 
possible to  continue  without  a  retrospective  glance  through 
the  vista  of  other  scenes  into  that  memorable  and  never  to  be 
forgotten  -past. 

We  are  impartial  to  that  word  backzuard^  yet  for  all  that, 
backward  w^e  shall  wander,  p<*rhaps  but  a  limited  space,  but 
irregularly  on  the  by-path  of  the  subject  of  the  previously 
mentioned  cruel  fate. 

'  Tis  the  middle  afternoon  ol  a  glorious  day  in  Spring.  All 
nature  seems  bathing  in  gorgeous  sunbeams — green  fields 
tinged  with  gold  ;  green  trees,  green  shrubs,  variegated  flow- 
ery dotting  green  meadows  ;  yet  a  golden  hue,  tinges  the 
cheek  of  the  lovely  landscape  on  every  side,  while  the  south- 
ern songsters  vie  with  each  other  in  imitating  every  sound  ;  peal 
after  peal  of  merr}'  twittering  voices  ascending  and  descend- 
ing the  scales — a  shrill  soprano,  a  shriller  tenor,  then  a  sudden 
hush,  as  if  catching  higher  inspiration  from  the  lively  breeze 
that  frolics  through  groves  and  woody  retreats,  on  this  bright 
and  lovely  day. 

Yet  there  are  clouds  in  the  distant  horizon  ;  there  is  deep 
gloom  around.  Death — restless — slumbers  not,  but  stalks 
around  ;  bearing  fresh  victims,  old  and  young,  sad  and  gay — 
often  bloody  corpses  to  hastily  dug  graves. 

Alarming  sounds  are  heard  in  the  distance.  Do  you  not 
hear?  List!  There,  startlingly  reverberating  in  the  distance 
is  the  rattle  of  musketry,  while  faintly  on  the  quivering 
breeze,  are  trembling  echoes  of  fifes  and  drums  ;  then  the 
booming  roar  of  cannon. 

Start  not  at  those  angry  thundering  tones,  it  is  only  the  ar- 
tiller}'  belching  forth  its  spite  and  fierce  rage,  with  destructive 
wrath. 

What  is  the  meaning  of  this  uproar?  Why,  only  the  Yan- 
kees firing  from  their  batteries,  and  chasing  the  daring  rebel 
scouts. 


RBT       \ 


BLUE  AND  GRAY 


Yes,  kind  reader,  the  scene  of  a  portion  of  my  simple 
story  lies  near  the  lines — almost  touching  the  pickets  between 
the  contending  armies  in  Southern  Louisiana  ;  near  enough  to 
the  '  Federals  '  to  be  continually  harassed  and  annoyed,  yet 
not  sufficiently  near  to  be  protected. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,"  the  scouts  cry  out  as  they  go  back- 
ward and  forward.  ''Don't  be  frightened,  there  is  no  dan- 
ger," say  the  careless  riders.  ''  There  is  no  danger — who 
cares  for  those  bellowing  oil  war-gods." 

''  My  God,  WilHe  is  shot !  "  Poor  boy,  he  would  go  too 
near^  and  now,  brave  youth-daring  soul,  your  fond,  proud 
mother  can  but  seek  your  stiffened  body.  A  Northern  born, 
he  died  assisting  a  handful  of  Southern  braves  in  defending 
their  firesides,  while  against  them  were  men  of  almost  every 
nation,  fighting  for  what?  Conquest?  No,  not  alone,  but  for 
mone}^,  imagined  wrongs  and  the  word  Union. 

Poor  Willie  !  Rich  Willie  !  we  honor  and  revere  thy  mem- 
ory, and  have  wreathed  a  chaplet  of  forget-me-nots  around 
th}-^  shrine,  and  ever  plead  God's  blessing  on  thy  young  and 
noble  soul.  Peace  to  his  sacred  ashes,  which  a  fond  mother 
had  removed  from  the  soil  on  which  he  died  to  a  far  off 
Northern  cemetery,  and  there  buried  among  relatives  who 
had  preceded  him  to  the  "  other  shore." 

These  memorable  heart-rending  scenes,  of  which  many  are 
narrated,  were  of  themselves  sufficient  evidence  of  the  brave- 
ry and  daring  spirit  who  were  striving  for  the  maintenance 
of  the  sublime  principle  and  theory  of  our  forefathers,  viz: 
State  and  Self  Government,  and  though  we  were  not  entirely 
successful,  our  efforts  proved  that  the  South  had  man}'  friends 
.and  held  those  principles  dear  to  its  heart,  and  for  which  they 
nobly  contended. 

But  now^  no  more  do  our  brave  boys,  or  our  noblemen  gird 
themseh^es  for  the  battle  field  to  conquer  or  die  ;  Ah  !  thous- 
ands did  die,  and  preferred  death — the  fate  of  a  brave 
soldier—rather  than  see  their  liberties  trampled  in  the  dust,  by 
their  once  brothers  but  now  bitter  enemies  ;  who  fed  by  mis- 
representation and  led  by  misconstruction,  had  forgotten,  and 
indeed  oftimes  heeded  not  actual  ties  of  blood. 


10  ''  BLUE  AND  gray:' 

We  have  wandered  too  far  on  the  rugged  path  of  the  fast; 
for  'tis  not  a  history  of  our  noble  and  chivah'ous  dead  of 
whom  we  would  write  ;  yet,  space  and  time  could  never  give 
room  sufficient  to  write  their  eulogies,  and  if  all  languages  on 
the  terrestial  globe  were  combined  in  one  vast  utterance  no 
words  but  those  of  praise — praise  of  noble  deeds  and  patri- 
otic sacrifices  could  ever  inspire  their  thoughts  and  words.  If 
we  had  the  intellect  of  every  born  poet,  we  could  never 
rhyme  enough  of  their  heroic  deeds,  or  had  we  the  gifts  and 
power  of  all  the  great  minds,  ancient,  as  well  as  modern,  our 
pen  then  would  fall  far  short  of  doing  justice  to  those  who- 
sacrificed  their  noble  blood,  and  lost  fortunes  in  defense  of 
country. 

Peace  to  those  who  have  gone  ;  may  prosperity  with  happi- 
ness again  garland  the  homes  of  those  who  are  left — those 
who  shield  the  weak,  and  battle  still,  but  in  a  peaceful  man- 
ner, for  their  country's  Honor,  and  to  guard  their  own  hearth- 
stones as  well  and  carefully  as  those  of  their  lost  or  wounded 
comrades,  who  shared  the  same  hardships  and  privations. 

Let  there  be  no  more  waring  with  brother ;  war  with  its 
cruel  face,  its  devastating  tread  is  but  fit  companion  to  ima- 
gined scene  of  "  lower  regions." 

Let  white  robed  Peace,  angel  of  mercy—omen  of  prosperity- 
spread  her  pure  and  lovely  mantle  o'er  our  sacred  land, — 
sacred  from  memories  of  gallant  deeds  enacted  by  the  ''  Blue 
and  Gray"  from  the  sprinkled  blood,  now  washed  by  tiny 
rivulets  into  the  current  of  many  even  far  off  streams. 

The  tramp  of  their  steady  foot-steps  is  heard  no  more  ;  yet 
their  spirits  still  linger  around  in  every  field  and  meadow, 
glade  or  hollow,  and  in  every  household  seated  in  vacant 
chairs,  in  empty  space  and  in  every  truly  Southern  heart. 

As  I  write  these  lines — two  little  wrens,  hrownyTiwd,  hrozvny 
have  perched  themselves  inside  of  the  closed  lattice  blinds, 
and  occasionally  peck  and  flutter  against  the  window  panes  as 
if  seeking  ingress. 

They  somehow  remind  me,  and  iorcibl}^  of  poor  Louisiana 

nd  her  sister  South   Carolina — poor  little  birds  !  They  are 

peaceful  creatures  shivering  outside  in  the  cold,  3^et  striving 


BLUE  AND  gray:'  11 


with  their  humble  mi^ht  to  clear  the  way  and  get  inside — 
flapping  and  beating  their  wings  in  the  vain  endeavor.  I  will 
open  the  window  and  say:  Come  in  little  birds,  you  have 
been  compelled  to  tarry  already  too  long  in  the  cold,  come 
inside  it  is  your  rights  even  spread  your  wings  and  soar  to  the 
ceiling  if  you  choose — come  in  little  ones. 

But  to  return  to  my  story,  for  I  have  wandered  too  far  on  a 
track  which  is  now  guarded  by  able  hands. 

We  shall  for  the  present  simply  call  our  heroine  Jenny  June 
and  our  hero  of  the  '*  shabby  gray,"  Harold  Clinton. 

On  the  day  Harold  met  his  fate — Jenny  June,  having  some 
particularly  important  business  in  hand,  started  in  person  and 
entirely  alone  on  her  pet  pony  ''  Sable  "  (so-called  from  his 
silky  and  jetty  coat),  to  the  camp  of  the  officer  in  command  of 
the  Confederate  forces,  or  rather  the  outside  pickets  or  scout- 
ing party,  as  they  were  called. 

Jenny  was  neither  nervous  or  timid,  yet  shrank  from  ob- 
servation— still  generally  sprightly  and  gay  ;  but  to-day  as  she 
rode  along,  she  seemed  brooding  o'er  her  troubles,  while 
a  mist  seemed  gathered  around  the  present ; — so  when  riding 
along  at  an  easy  lope,  forgetting  all  around  in  deep  absorbing 
thought,  whether  firmly  seated  or  not,  careless  and  indifferent 
to  the  path  taken  by  her  pon}^  she  was  carried  along  a  grassy 
unfrequented  by-path,  then  upon  the  levee  embankment,  until 
all  of  a  sudden  her  horse  shied,  gave  a  bound  and  his  mistress 
la}'  an  unconscious  heap  upon  the  lap  of  old  mother  earth. 

This  all  occurred  so  suddenly  that  the  young  soldier — the 
innocent  cause  of  the  sad  accident  was  so  surprised,  he  was  for 
some  seconds  unable  to  render  proper  assistance  to  the  lady 
or  appl}^  immediately  suitable  restoratives — even  if  he  had 
possessed  them.  Having  a  canteen  filled  with  pure  fresh 
water,  he  finally  bathed  her  temples, — sprinkled  her  face, — 
rubbed  her  hands, — felt  her  pulse  and  whispered  *'  how  beauti- 
ful !  "  and  was  at  last  rewarded  with  a  sign  of  returning  ani- 
mation. A  slight  quivering  of  the  eye-lids  and  lips,  then 
opened  a  pair  of  large  dark  eyes,  staring  around. 

**  Do  you  suffer,, and  are  you  much  hurt  lady?  Feel  you 
any  pain." 


12  ''BLUE  A  ND  GRA  ?  . " 

"Where  am  I?  Oh!"  she  exclaimed  as  she  raised  and 
drew  herself  up  haughtily — seeming  to  remember  all  that  had 
transpired  and  connecting  him  with  her  present  trouble. 

"  Where  is  Sable? — my  horse  I  mean,"  and  rising  quickh' 
to  her  feet,  she  moved  toward  the  little  animal  who  stood 
perfectly  quiet  a  little  distance  looking  slyly  on,  as  if, 
fully  cognizant  of  the  solemn  fact,  that  it  was  his  duty  now 
that  he  had  occasioned  so  much  mischief,  to  remain  as  guard 
o^"  silent  spectator  and  witness  the  eventful  termination  of  the 
sad  affair. 

He  in  the  shabby  gray  felt  some  compunction  of  conscience 
as  to  being  the  cause  of  the  accident ;  nevertheless,  deeply 
wounded  at  the  lady's  haughty  manner,  still  he  advanced  to- 
ward, and  again  addressed  her,  yet  not  so  humbly  as  before, 
but  with  a  haughtiness  equal  to  her  own. 

*'  Am  sorry  madam,  that  I  was  the  innocent  cause  of  this 
sad  accident ;  therefore,  though  you  may  loath  to  receive 
them,  would  offer  my  services  or  assistance,  merely  to  atone 
for  m}^  carelessness,  if  possible.  Are  you  quite  sure  that  you 
are  not  injured,  lady." 

"  I  feel  but  a  slight  inconvenience,  sir  ;  and  would  be  glad 
if  you  would  remain  where  you  are,  or  get  out  of  the  way,  as 
my  horse  does  not  seem  to  like  the  sight  of  you." 

"  Certainly,  madam  !  Having  caused  you  already  so  much 
trouble,  I  will  assurdly  save  you  further  by  a  speedy  depart- 
ure," and  at  conclusion  of  said  remark,  he  bowed,  turned 
aside  and  started  dowm  the  embankment. 

She  gazed  at  his  retreating  form,  noted  his  fine  figure,  his 
proud,  even  haughty  bearing ;  at  first  a  feeling  of  curiosity, 
then  one  of  pity  rippled  gently,  softly  along  the  surface  of  her 
true  womanly  nature,  and  with  it  flashed  the  thought  of  her 
own  dependent  situation. 

"  Come  back  sir  !  Pray  come  back  !  "  she  called,  •'  I  see 
that  you  are  one  of  *'  our  boys  "  as  we  call  them  ;  so  must 
beg  your  pardon  and  accept  thankfully  3^our  offered  assist- 
ance, for  how  am  I  to  again  seat  myself  on  that  saucy  beast. 
Please  stand  aside  until  I  get  him,  and  then  will  be  glad  if 
you  will  assist  me  to  mount." 


BLUE  AND  GRAVP  la 


"Let  me  catch  him  lady,  most  animals  are  fond  of  me  and 
horses  are  my  especial  pets."  He  started  in  pursuit  of  the 
animal,  calling  him  in  persuasive  tones,  gathered  a  bunch  of 
grass  and  held  it  toward  him,  until  he  came  within  reaching 
distance  of  the  bridle,  now  hanging  and  dangling  around  his 
hoofs,  and  broken.  He  patted  him,  and  found  him  docile 
enough  ;  mended  the  bridle,  and  then  led  him  toward  his 
mistress,  who  had  seated  herself  on  the  grass  and  was  arrang- 
ing her  fallen  hair.  What  a  magnificent  suit  of  hair,  thought 
the  young  man;  ah,  what  a  beautiful  woman  an3'way?  Who 
can  she  be  !  were  his  silent  interrogation. 

She  arose,  leaned  against  the  animal  caressingly- ,  called  him 
"little  rascal,"'  then  said  authoritively,  but  gently,  to  Harold^ 
"Now  help  me  to  mount." 

"  Say  that  you  forgive  me  lady,  and  that  you  are  not  at*all 
hurt,"  said  he,  before  obeying  her  command. 

"  What  were  you  doing,  that  you  could  neither  see  nor 
hear,  for  I  presume  it  must  have  been  you  who  frightened  my 
pony;  he  never  shied  in  like  manner  before  ;"  said  she  in 
answer. 

"  Only  reading,  madam:  I  have  been  an  invalid — indeed 
quite  sick,  and  have  been  staying  in  that  house  over  yonder 
ridge,  so  came  out  for  a  stroll,  to  assist  in  gaining  my 
strength,  on  this  lovely  day  ;  I  was  reclining  down  there  on 
that  grassy  carpet,  and  as  you  came  up,  unexpectedly,  I 
sprang  up,  thinking  it  might  be  an  enem}'  or  a  spy,  in  so 
doing,  must  have  given  ^^our  little  pet  quite  a  fright.  I  think 
you  have  forgiven  me,  b}^  the  expression  in  your  face — so  now 
let  me  assist  3^ou  to  mount." 

She  turned  away  her  face  from  his  devouring  gaze,  as  her 
cheeks  diffused  with  blushes,  but  she  gave  him  her  hand  and 
gracefully  lifted  herself  again  in  the  saddle,  with  his  assist- 
ance. 

How  his  heart  beat !  How  he  continued  to  feel  the  imprint 
of  that  tiny  foot  on  the  palm  of  his  hand  ;  yet  it  had  barely 
touched  it,  and  but  for  a  moment  as  she  leaped  into  the  sad-^ 
die. 

"  I  see  that  you  belong  to  the  artiller}^ — what  battery?" 


14  '' BLUE  AND  gray: 


"  Valverdi  battery  madam  :  You  seemed  going  toward  our 
camp  ;  can  I  be  of  any  service  to  you." 

"  I  believe  you  can,  and  I  feel  that  I  can  U'ust  you  so 
as  to  save  me  further  trouble.  Please  deliver,  into  his  own 
hand,  this  package  (producing  it  from  her  pocket)  to 
Col.  G." 

"  I  will,  with  great  pleasure  :  is  there  nothing  else  lady?" 

*'  No  I  Well  yes  !  What  book  were  you  reading?  " 

He  looked  surprised,  but  answered,  '  Lucille,'  Owen  Meri- 
deth's  *  Lucille.'     Did  you  ever  read  it?  " 

But  instead  of  replying  she  whipped  up  her  horse  and  was 
off  like  a  mystic  vision. 

I  wonder  if  he  admired  that  heroine,  was  her  mental  cogi- 
tation— she  was  a  widow,  I  believe  !  I  wonder  w^hat's  his 
naifie?  A  noble  looking  man,  even  in  that  rusty  looking  suit. 
And  he  went  rapidly  toward  camp  as  if  endowed  with  wings, 
saying  to  himself : 

Her  little  foot,  I  feel  the  pressure  of  it  still.  Who  can  she 
be? 


CHAPTER   II. 


Poor  boy  I   dying,  yet  not  alone; 
Friends  are  near  to  soothe  thy  sorrow 
And  teach  thee  say  'Thy  wilTbe  done; 
Heaven  will  be  thy  home  to-morrow 


^PlITUATED  on  the  northern  outskirts  or  boundaries  of 
"^l,  a  picturesque  little  town,  stood  a  two- story  frame  build- 
•^  ing,  painted  (at  some  distant  period)  white  ;  but  now 
grown  dingy,  looking  sorely  sad  and  worn. 

Inside  of  the  fallen  fence  are  here  and  there  a  few  stunted 
striving  shrubs,  still  bent  on  trying  to  grow,  each  trj^ng  to 
raise  themselves  above  the  level  of  their  betters,  and  all  from 
the  ground  ;  but  there  are  animals— horses  of  soldiers,  etc. , 
who  love  the  pleasure  of  nipping  in  the  bud  their  high  aspira- 
tions— keeping  down  those  poor  forlorn,  yet  striving  shrubs. 

The  house  itself  has  a  vacant  stare  ;  the  place  a  desolate, 
starved  and  starving  look. 

Inside  of  the  house  all  was  perfectly  quiet ;  yet  many  souls 
were  there.  The  wounded,  the  sick,  are  scattered  on  the 
floor;  some  on  mattresses,  others  have  only  beds  of  straw; 
some  convalescent,  others  dying,  with  silent  watches  standing 
round.  'Tis  a  temporary  hospital  of  the  Confederate  cause. 
Many  days,  even  weeks  have  elapsed  since  the  incidents  re- 
lated in  our  first  chapter.  A  large  force  of  federal  cavalry, 
infantr3%  and  light  artillery  swept  everything  before  it. 

No  more  would  saucy  "  Sable  "  chance  to  shy,  and  throw  a 
fond  young  mistress,  for  now  he  too,  had  gone  a  '«  sogering  " 
with  a  Yankee  on  his  glossy  back,  and  though  a  kind  hearted 
gentleman}^  officer  promised  to  report  the  case  and  have  him 
returned  to  his  mistress  it  was  months  before  she  beheld  her 
pet  again. 

The  Federals,   it  is  true,    came   among  us  as  enemies  and 


IG  ^^  BLUE  AND  GRA7V' 

brought  with  them  fire  and  the  sword,  but  in  many  instances 
they  proved  friends,  against  the  tyranical  and  ill-breeding  of 
the  lower  minds,  and  Southern  hospitality  was  even  in  those 
times  willingly  extended  as  far  as  within  power  of  the  poor 
Reb. 

The  Confederates  retreated  ;  still  the  brave  scouts  kept  the 
advanced  guards  of  the  Federals  pretty  busy  warding  sur- 
prises, masked  batteries,  etc.,  harrassing  their  rear,  often  al- 
lowing the  enemy  to  traverse  a  large  portion  of  country,  and 
on  getting  themselves  reinforced  would  rush  in  the  rear,  cap- 
turing prisoners,  provisions,  baggage  wagons,  and  ammuni- 
tion. 

This  did  not  exactly  agree  with  the  constitution  of  some  of 
the  parties,  nor  plan  and  intention  of  the  Generals,  so  they 
shortly  fell  back  to  their  old  stand,  behind  breastworks,  and 
under  cover  of  their  gunboats. 

Then  the  Rebs  became  more  daring,  and  with  "  Mosquito 
fleets."  *  The  daring  Valverdi,  and  other  batteries,  made  a 
dash  and  gained  a  victory.  The  gunboats  of  the  enemy  having 
gone  off  to  participate  in — the  Confeds  knew  not  what. 

And  so  Yankees  and  Rebels  lay  side  by  side  in  the  hospi- 
tals, and  the  Southern  women  visited  and  administered  to  the 
comforts  of  both  alike,  not  allowing  enmity  to  intrude  its 
presence  in  that  only  place,  held  sacred  from  the  tongue  of 
abuse,  by  its  pitiful  and  mournful  scenes. 

'Twas  the  afternoon  of  a  hot  and  sultr}'  day,  that  two  ladies 
passed  into  this  temporary  hospital,  and  as  they  did  so,  a 
horseman  galloped  up,  dismounted  and  entered  just  behind 
them.  All  passed  on  to  a  room  where  lay  a  handsome  youth 
of  not  more  than  seventeen  summers.  "  He  was  dying," — an 
old  nurse  said, — and  it  appeared  so,  for  he  gave  not  the  slight- 
est notice  to  the  ladies  ;  yet  as  the  tall  figure  of  the  gentleman 
approached,  a  glad  smile  flitted  across  his  pallid  features,  he 
held  out  a  thin  hand,  and  spoke  in  faint  tones  :  '<  Ah  I  Hal 
you  don't  forget  poor  Walter,  but  it  is  too  late  now  !  Oh  ! 
poor  mamma,"  and  he  reached  for  some  flower  Jenny  held 
in    her  hand.     Yes,  poor   Walter!    Still    almost    a    child,    a 

*Small  row  boat. 


BLUE  AND  gray: 


Stranger  in  a  strange  place — his  home  and  friends  in  Texas — 
was  dying,  aye  died  the  following  morning,  breathing  with  his 
latest  breath,  the  sweet«ist  of  all  endearing  names,  Mamma. 
They  buried  him  in  the  little  graveyard,  very  near  to  Jenny's 
home,  and  to  his  memory  placed  a  little  marble  slab  at  the 
head  of  his  grave.  Poor  Walter  !  we  cannot  forget  thee  ;  thy 
noble  young  soul  is  at  home  with  its  God.  ^^  Requiescat  in 
■pace.''     Two  little  children  planted  flowers  on  his  grave. 

Again  those  two  have  met.  Jenny  recognizes  Harold  ev^en 
before  he  entered  the  house  ;  and  a  look  of  pleased  surprise 
shot  instantly  across  his  whole  countenance,  as  he  recognized 
her  by  the  bedside  of  his  dying  friend. 

But  though  the  blood  tingjled  in  her  cheeks  at  sight  of  his 
glad  surprise,  she  returned  him  but  a  cold  and  distant  bow. 

The  ladies  visited  other  rooms,  and  other  patients  ;  and  be- 
fore they  left,  Harold  followed  in  the  wake  of  their  footsteps, 
as  though  fearing  to  lose  sight  of  them.  At  last,  gathering 
courage,  he  went  close  to  her  side,  and'saidin  an  undertone  : 
"  I  gave  the  package  into  his  own  hands.  Have  you  seen 
him  since?  " 

"  Thank  you  !  I  have,"  said  she  coldly. 

Here  the  old  nurse  put  in,  asking  for  fresh  eggs,  for  some 
poor  fellow  who  craved  them. 

Luxuries  were  scarce  then  ;  even  to  fresh  eggs,  and  I  doubt 
much  if  half  that  was  sent  to  the  hospitals,  were  ever  given  to 
the  sick  soldiers  ;  indeed,  I  know  of  some  very  mean  and  sel- 
fish, as  dishonorable  actions,  and  in  one  case  where  a  lady 
had  sent  her  brother  a  box  ;  and  it  was  afterward  revealed 
that  instead  of  the  Yankees  caftiirhig  that  box,  an  officer  ap- 
propriated it  and  made  good  use  of  the  contents,  and  the  poor 
private  to  whom  it  was  sent,  had  no  way  of  returning  the 
compliment,  or  of  getting  refunded  the  articles  that  parties, 
saw  the  officer  so  dishonestly  appropriating.  Both  of  these 
parties  are  living  yet ;  and  I  wonder  if  it  has  never  occurred 
to  the  officer,  that  this  shameful  act  is  well  known  to  others. 

Jenny  told  the  nurse  to  send  *'  across  there,"  pointing  to  a 
handsome  residence  opposite,  and  you  can  get  what  you 
require. 


18  '' BLUE  AND  GRAY 


The  ladies  then  retired,  followed  by  the  obsequious  old 
nurse,  insisting  on  their  "  coming  again,"  and  the  handsome 
man  in  gray,  who  had  become  quite  animated  in  conversation 
with  the  lady  who  accompanied  Jenny,  telling  of  *' poor 
Walter,"  of  his  widowed  mother,  and  Walter's  bravery. 

Even  to-day  in  reviewing  the  many  sad  features  of  those 
harrowing  times,  none  come  more  vividly  before  my  mental 
vision  than  the  sweet  boyish  face  of  Walter,  a  youth  of 
promise,  a  widowed  mother's  pride  and  joy — to  be  so  young 
transplanted  from  this  blooming  earth  to  a  brighter  home  be- 
3^ond  : — for  I  too  stood  (but  onh'  for  a  moment)  beside  the 
dying  boy. 

The  story  of  his  life,  was  a  sweet  book  ;  but  its  ending  sad 
and  mournful,  for  in  making  a  charge,  he  came  in  contact 
with  a  giant  man  of  a  Western  corps,  and  received  the 
wound  from  which  he  died. 


,£&       Cb_    "'>•      'C--      'O^      --C-"      'C-^      'O- '<'l_^'-?1_    ">!      -0-      rT-i      rC^    H>>      rC-i      rCS      rCS  ■   rCS      rCS      '"'S      r^      ( 

^■gi  I  i  1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 II 1 1  rn  1 1 1 1 II II  i  It  I  it  1 1  i  III  1 1  III  ri  1 1 1 1 1  i  11 1  III  1 1 1 1 1 1 1 11 1 1 1 1  imiiii  iriirnt  1 1.|  i 


Ill  I  III  I  ijii  ixii  ij  I  •  iiixD. 

CHAPTER    III. 

"  'Till  all  too  late— thou  wert,  thou  art 


The  cherished  madness  of  my  heart." — Byn 


on. 


4^p:  EVERAL  weeks  had  gone  by  since  the  incidents  related 
"^Sl'  ^"  ^^^  ^^^^  chapter  had  transpired,  which  to  Harold  ap- 
^^p  peared  unusually  long.  He  had  often  visited  the  hos- 
pital, frequently  and  intentionally  passed  the  house  'over  the 
way,'  but  yet  had  not  been  fortunate  enough  to  again  meet 
the  object  of  his  thoughts. 

Many  officers  are  staying  in  town  or  visiting  dail}^ ;  plenty 
•of  fair  young  girls  and  handsome  soldier  boys — consequently 
plenty  of  gayety  and  pleasure. 

A  party  is  on  the  tapis  ;  there  were  fish  fries,  horseback 
rides,  and  flirtations  innumerable  ;  moonlight  walks,  serenades  ; 
but  now,  a  party  is  the  all-absorbing  thought. 

Harold  had  been  very  sad  ;  nevertheless,  quite  a  ladies  man  ; 
he  attends  upon  them  with  a  knightly  grace  ;  does  their  bid- 
ding with  obliging  haste,  and  so  as  he  is  going  to  town,  is 
commissioned  to  invite  "all  the  girls."  With  alacrity  he 
passes  on  the  way,  thinking  this  a  good  opportunity  to  in- 
trude his  presence  inside  of  that  tempting-looking  cottage 
home,  where  she  must  live,  thought  he  ;  his  footsteps  led  him 
directly  there  (he  has  been  told  that  a  young  lady  lives  there, 
companion  to  Mrs.  B. )  :  going  quickly  up  the  gravel  walk,  and 
approaching  the  house,  he  finds  seated  on  the  front  piazza  a 
tall,  slightly-built,  dark  haired  lady. 

"That  is  not  her"  thought  he,  "  it  must  be  Mrs.  B."  An 
officer  is  seated  also,  but  upon  the  steps,  and  is  an  entire 
stranger  to  him  ;  bowing,  he  hesitated,  then  addresses  the 
•officer. 

"I  have  been  commissioned  by  Miss  Belle  Lee,  and  Miss 


BLUE  AND  GRAT: 


Rose  Duvanel,  to  invite  all  the  young  ladies  to  a  pic-nic  to- 
morrow,  and  a  party  to  be  given  at  their  residence  in  the 
evening/' 

"What  say  you,  Miss  Nellie?"  enquired  the  officer,  turning 
to  the  lady,  who  held  in  her  arms  a  beautiful  little  girl. 

''  I  do  not  think  it  possible  for  me  to  go  ;  Lilly  is  not  well, 
and  Jenny  may  need  me,  she  has  so  much  to  do —  am  sorry  ; 
but  will  you  not  walk  in,  sir?" 

*'  Thank  you  I  not  this  morning  —  but  the  other  young  lady 
—  tell  her  Miss  Lee  is  very  anxious  for  her  company  —  per- 
haps she  will  go." 

''The  other  young  lady"  repeated  the  officer;  "  there  is 
no  other  young  lady,  onlv  Maggie,  and  she  is  but  a  child  as 
yet." 

"  Oh  yes,  there  must  be  !  I  mean  the  young  lady  whom  I 
met  at  the  hospital :  is  she  not  here  still?  "  Here  the  officer 
and  lady  exchanged  looks  ;   and  he  laughingly  said  : 

''  You  must  mean  Mrs.  Bancroft ;  certainly,  she  is  still  here  % 
out  in  the  ironing  room,  I  believe  ;   shall  I  go  and  call  her?" 

''  No  ;  thank  3'ou  !  I  thought  there  was  another  young  lady," 
and,  stammering  and  blushing  like  an  awkward  schoolboy,  he 
hastily  retreated  ;  for  he  could  perceive  that  both  lady  and 
officer  were  much  amused,  and  would  have  a  good  laugh  at 
his  expense. 

And  for  days  Jenny  was  teased  about  the  man  in  '•  shabby 
gray,"  the  "other  young  lady,"  etc.,  until  she  became 
heartily  tired,  and  grew  quite  angry  about  it. 

And  now  that  our  hero  is  aware  of  the  fact,  that  the  lady  of 
his  most  engrossing  thoughts  is  already  a  wife  ;  and  you,  my 
readers,  only  know  her  as  Jenny  June — we  will  introduce  her 
to  you  as  Mrs.  Bancroft — Jenny  June  Bancroft,  at  your  ser- 
vice ;  and  hereafter  will  recognize  her  by  that  name  ;  still  the 
name  of  Jenny  June  clings  to  her  like  something  better  and 
more  appropriate. 

And  what  of  the  husband?  do  you  enquire,  or  is  she  a 
widow?  Have  patience,  my  dear  reader,  she  is,  at  the  com- 
mencement of  our  story  what  is  termed  a  "grass  widow;" 
but  he  is  coming  on  the  stage — the  husband  is  coming  out  of 


BLUE  AND  GRAY 


darkness  into  light,  and  will  be  duly  exhibited  in  all  the  glory 
of  his  dazzling  qualities. 

A  few  daj^s  after  the  above  amusing  incident,  and  while  out 
riding,  our  hero  in  gray  found  himself  once  more  face  to  face 
with  the  '*  young  lady,"  or,  properly  speaking,  *'Mrs.  Ban- 
croft." 

"They  met  by  chance,  the  usual  way,"  so  goes  the  old 
song,  and  indeed,  in  this  case,  it  proved  true. 

Both  bowed  ;  both  blushed  ;  and  after  passing  each  other, 
shocking  to  relate,  both  sighed  and  looked  back — their  eyes 
met — and, — ah,  well '  I  ! 

The  battery  had  been  ordered  away ;  and  she  was  not 
aware  that  he  was  still  in  the  neighborhood. 

It  was  rumored  that  he  was  courting  a  rather  inferior  kind 
■of  a  woman  below  town.  "She  did  not  believe  it,  or  w^ould 
not !"  and  why  did  she  sigh,  turn  away,  and  almost  smother 
her  little  daughter  with  fond  kisses? 

Ansv/er,  3^e  wise  ones  I  but  beware  of  unrighteous  judgment ! 


R^g^^g^^.^^^i^^^^^^g^^,^^^a^^g^^:^^:^^^^^:g^ 


^^''^:^^:i^:?;!^:?^^::s;:^^^"^:$:j^^^^ 


chapte:r  IV. 


■Constant  courtship  may  obtain  her, 
When  both  wit  and  merit  fail." — I..  La?tdon. 


[R,  as  is  sometime  the  case,  one  with  weak  mind,  or  of  ai 
loving  sympathetic   nature,  can  be  duped  into  commit- 

T^  ting  that,  which  in  after  years  may  prove  a  source  of 
unceasing  regret  and  sorrow. 

"  Jenny  June  Rose,"  when  but  a  girl  of  scarcely  sixteen 
3^ears,  had  been  made  the  dupe  of  one  of  nature's  failures  ;  an 
extremely  handsome,  even  popular  man — a  man  of  the  world,, 
who  loved  greed  and  gold,  or  wine  and  its  concomitants — 
better  than  honor,  morality  or  truth. 

And  she,  an  unsophisticated  child,  had  been  .induced  to 
wed  this  man  ;  for  she  thought  he  loved  her  ;  and  imagina- 
tion pictured  in  her  childish  mind,  a  bright  dream — love  for 
him — a  brighter  future  ;  but  alas  !  the  sequal  proves  that  it 
was  but  a  shadow,  with  transient  sunbeams  flitting  across  its 
path. 

She  thought  that  she  was  loved,  when  with  persuasive 
tones,  he  told  her  of  a  mighty  love,  and  how  he  would  guard 
and  shield,  cherish  and  protect  his  little  pet. 

The  girl  being  almost  friendless,  left  an  orphan  with  some- 
thing of  a  fortune,  what  wonder  that  she,  who  was  of  an  af- 
fectionate, pure  and  unsuspicious  nature,  should  gently  glide 
into  the  snare,  so  artfully  laid  to  entrap  her. 

Yes  ;  Jenny  was  over  persuaded  to  become  the  wife  of 
Richard  Bancroft.  She  had  a  cousin,  an  unfeeling  wretch, 
who,  for  sinister  motives  and  purposes,  assisted  to  '*  make  the 
match,"  and  when  too  late,  Jenny  found  she  had  been  used 
as  an  instrument  to  satisfy  a  revenge,  that  he,  the  cruel  cousin, 
had  sworn  to  accomplish. 

Mr.  Bancroft  was  twenty-two  years  older  than   Jenny  ;  a 


BLUE  AND  GRAT 


man  who  had  glutted  himself  in  the  world's  vices  ;  had  spent 
his  best  days  in  fast  living  and    its  consequent  consequences. 

Poor  Jenny  ;  but  a  child,  she  knew  not  until  too  late,  the 
thorny  path  she  had  chosen  ;  how  cruel  fate  had  been  in 
planting  her  pure  3'oung  life  in  so  close  a  proximit}^  to  one 
that  was  so  selfish  and  immoral. 

As  years  passed  on,  she  realized  the  sad  truth  of  a  sham 
love — therefore  no  love  at  all. 

Only  a  '*  forlorn  hope  "  bore  her  upward,  and  supported 
her  oft-time  sinking  spirits.  But  Jenn}^  was  brave,  good 
natured,  and  true  to  a  wife's  duty  ;  her  buoyant  spirits  pick- 
ing out  the  bright  spots  on  which  to  plant  her  fallen  hopes, 
scattering  the  clouds  with  a  proud  and  victorious  hand,  while 
ditty  and  virtue  were  her  watchword  and  guard. 

Two  children  came  to  fill  the  void  in  her  heart :  she  tried 
at  least  to  find  contentment,  and  the  six  years  of  her  married 
life  have  only  added  to  her  beauty  and  the  full  development 
of  a  fine  figure,  and  that  beauty  even  more  felt  than  seen. 

And  what  of  her  husband?  he  was  getting  old  and  feeble, 
not  so  much  from  age,  but  a  misused  constitution,  strong 
drink  and  a  tortured  conscience  ;  and  had  become  so  ad- 
dicted to  the  use  of  opiates  as  to  deaden  all  sensibilities  ;  and 
this  habit  had  become  so  fixed  that  he  would  sell  his  soul  for 
them,  rather  than  do  without. 

He  had  spent  almost  two  years  away  from  home,  filling  the 
position  best  known  as  a  hanger-on,  a  drunkard  and  gam- 
bler;  but  too  feeble  to  join  in  the  regular  army,  and  like  some 
few  other  cow^ards,  did  all  of  his  fighting  in  big  talk  "  of  how 
he  would  stand  in  his  cane-rows  and  shoot  down  Yankees,'^ 
etc. 

But  now  he  is  at  home,  a  feeble  old  man,  a  burden  to  his 
wife,  a  terror  to  the  children,  and  a  secret  advocate  of  the 
Federals. 

'Tis  near  the  close  of  summer.  First,  one  day  the  Con- 
federates held  possession,  then  the  Federals  ;  again  the  Fed- 
erals would  fall  back  to  their  old  lines,  and  the  Confederate 
boys  would  come  riding  back,  welcomed  by  the  women  and 
children,  at  any  rate. 


24  ' '  BL  UE  A  ND  GRA  2  . " 

This  time  a  hard  looking  set  of  Texan  soldiers  were  de- 
tailed to  act  as  scouts — or  to  picket  the  outlook,  and  some  of 
them  were  far  from  being  gentlemen,  but  they  were  Confed- 
erate soldiers,  so  we  cannot  pick  out  flaws  in  their  con- 
duct. They  came  down  unexpectedly  to  all,  for  the  inhabi- 
tants had  concluded  that  they  were  at  last  to  have  a  ;^iiet 
spell ;  the  place  being  so  unimportant  that  neither  claimed  to 
hold  it. 

It  was  on  a  dark  rainy  night  (new  pickets  had  been  posted 
at  several  points  below  town)  that  a  horseman  came  jogging 
along  with  his  Yankee  pass,  not  knowing  of  the  dreaded  ar- 
rivals. 

**Halt,  3^ou  d — d  Yankee,*'  cried  a  fierce  Texan.  Unfortu- 
nately for  the  horseman  he  had  on  a  pair  of  blue  pants,  and 
the  Texans  could  not  be  persuaded  that  he  was  not  a  Yankee 
sp3',  and  declared  the}^  would  hang  him  or  shoot  him  on  the 
spot. 

'*  No  quarter  to  the  old  rascal,"  they  almost  shouted. 

He  declared  himself  a  "  Confederate  ;"  gave  his  name, 
place  of  residence  or  abode  ;  still  without  effect. 

They  rifled  his  pockets,  came  across  his  pass,  found  a 
couple  of  bottles  of  "  Hostetter "  and  two  ounce  vials  of 
morphine,  but  only  a  dollar  in  greenbacks,  while  his  pocket 
seemed  to  be  well  filled  with  that  almost  useless  paper.  Con- 
federate bonds  or  bills. 

They  immediately  knocked  off  the  head  of  one  of  ''  Hos- 
tetter's  black  doctors,"  and  it  soon  felt  its  own  emptiness, 
while  they  began  to  feel  its  fulness  in  their  craniums  or  some- 
where in  that  direction.  They  insisted  more  vehemently  than 
ever  that  he  was  nothing  but  a  d — d  spy. 

They  tapped  the  other  "Hostetter"  and  were  now  getting 
beyond  self-control. 

**  Stand  out  old  chap  !  and  shut  your  eyes  ;  you  are  a  goner, 
old  boy." 

*'  No  !  let's  hang  him,"  and  as  the  poor  trembling  inebriate 
heard  the  click  of  their  guns,  and  watched  their  apparently 
murderous  intentions,  he  cried  aloud,  as  great  beads  of  cold 
sweat  roiled  down  his  weakening  frame:  "  Help  !  Murder  ! 


BT.UE  AND  GRAT 


Murder!"  and  piteously — "don't  shoot,  for  God's  sake 
don't  shoot!"  and  as  if  in  answer  to  his  call,  a  horseman 
galloped  in  sight:  '*What  means  this  outcry  that  I  hear? 
Down  with  your  guns,  boys  !  What  means  it  all?  What  were 
3'ou  about  to  do?    Murder  a  man  in  cold  blood?  " 

*'Why!  its  Hal;  what  in  thunder  are  you  doing  here? 
Not  out  for  a  cut  and  run,  eh?  d — d  if  we  had'nt  better 
arrest  you  ! ' ' 

"  You'd  better  try  it !  come  on  you  mighty  braves  !  "  said 
Harold,  warmly  and  mockingly,  as  he  placed  his  hand  to  his 
side,  drew  his  revolver,  and  showed  a  gleaming  knife  in  his 
belt. 

The  men  recoiled,  and  he  continued  :  "I  was  doing  a  little 
scouting,  independently,  that  is,  on  my  own  hook  ;  and  your 
Captain  gave  orders  that  I  was  to  ride  over  to  this  point  and 
to  see  what  all  of  you  were  about,  and  'tis  well  I  came  just 
as  I  did  ;  aye.  just  in  the  nick  of  time." 

'-  All  right  Hal !  all  right  old  boy  !  " 

*'  But  who  is  this  person,  boys?" 

''•  Capt'n,"  replied  Mr.  Bancroft,  **  I  am  on  my  way  home, 
from  the  Federal  lines  it  is  true,  having  gone  there  only  yester- 
day for  medicine  ;  and  was  on  my  return  when  these  men 
pounced  upon  me,  and  intended  to  murder  me  :  Please  save 
me  Captain  !  "    exclaimed  the  trembling  coward. 

"Boys,  it  is  my  duty  to  report  you  at  headquarters  ;  3^ou 
should  be  more  careful,  and  must,  in  future — you  might  have 
committed  a  grave  error:  Let  your  prisoner  come  with  me,  I 
will  see  that  all  is  right,  if  not,  the  proper  place  for  him  is  at 
camp." 

"  All  right  Hal !  you  are  a  trump,  anyway  ;  but  you  must 
have  a  sweetheart  down  in  these  parts,  for  you  love  to  get  in 
nabbing  distance  of  the  blue  b better  than  we  do  " 

"  Never  mind  me  ;  but  do  your  duty,  men — but  don't  make 
any  more  mistakes.  Give  me  the  property  that  you  eased 
the  gentleman  of — for  you  helped  yourselves,  I  know." 

Forthwith  the  articles  before  mentioned — minus  the  two 
Hostetters — were  produced  and  placed  in  his  hands.  He  gave 
to  Mr.  Bancroft  the  dollar  greenback  and  the  pocket-book  ; 


20  ''BLUE  AND  GRAY:' 

but   said  "  he  would  see  about  the  other,"   placing  the   mor- 
phine in  his  own  pocket. 

"Don't  report  us,  sir!  I  know  you  can  manage  all  the 
boys,  and  the  old  bars,  too,"  alluding  to  the  officers,  "we 
often  wonder  how  you  do  it." 

"  Ah  well,  boys  I  I  have  a  little  secret  of  my  own.  Come 
sir !  I  will  return  with  you  and  guide  you  safely  by  the  other 
pickets  ;  let  us  move  on,  for  time  is  flying,  and  I  may  be 
needed." 

Mr.  Bancroft  having  been  assisted  to  his  seat  again,  on  the 
back  of  his  horse,  they  now  rode  away  together ;  he  thanking 
Harold  and  calling  him  his  preserver,  etc.  "  I  should  have 
been  dead  by  this  time,  had  you  not  so  opportunely  came- 
along  sir." 

"  I  guess  not ;  the  boys  were  a  little  rough,  but  I  hardly 
imagine  they  would  have  dared  to  carry  things  so  far  ;  they 
were  only  joking  ;  still,  some  of  those  border  Texas  men  are 
not  over  refined,  in  fact  some  of  them  are  pretty  hard  custom- 
ers, and  would'nt  give  a  Yankee  much  show.  Did  I  under- 
stand you  to  say  that  your  name  was  Bancroft,  sir?"  "  That 
is  my  name  Capt'n,  and  I  reside  in  the  little  town  just  ahead 
of  us  ;  you  must  stop  with  me  to-night,  and  continue  my  guest 
while  in  these  parts." 

"  I  shall  gratefully  accept  shelter  until  morning,  as  the  rain 
seems  increasing,  but  must  move  on  early  to  camp,  as  I  am 
detailed  to  take  a  batch  of  prisonsrs  down  to  exchange, 
to-morrow,  if  possible,  and  shall  go  down  with  the  party  in 
the  morning." 

"You  must  be  an  officer  of  some  distinction,  I  presumq." 

"No,  only, a  private,  but  something  of  a  privileged  char- 
acter." 

"  But  what  is  the  matter,  sir?  " 

"  Oh  !  I  feel  dreadfully  sick,  and  as  though  I  would  faint." 

"  What  can  I  do  for  you,  sir?  shall  we  stop  at  the  next 
house?    or  call  for  a  glass  of  water  !  " 

"  No,  no  I  let's  go  on  home,  but  I  feel  very  sick." 

"  Keep  up  a  bold  heart  sir,  we  will  soon  be  there." 

These  two   characters,  so   opposite,  rode  side  by  side  for 


BLUE  AND  gray: 


27 


some  distance  but  in  silence,  Harold  assisting  his  companion 
in  the  guidance  of  his  horse  ;  finally  the  exhausted,  half 
inebriated  man  was  halted  in  front  of  his  own  door,  and 
almost  fell  head-foremost  from  his  horse  into  the  arms  of  his 
preserver.  In  another  moment  Harold  and  Jenny  June,  that 
*'  other  young  lady  "  stood  face  to  face. 


B^^Eg^gasga5gs^,^^i^^iig^^M>^^a'g^^ 


CHAPTKR    V. 


Go  for  the  doctor,  my  husband  is  sick! 

Please  sir  to  hurry,  and  bring  him  back  quick; 
Yes,  please  to  hurry,  for  I  am  in  dread, 

Before  vou  return,  that  he  will  be  dead. 


^^^HEN  Mr.  Bancroft,  more  dead  than  alive,  arrived  in 
Tp®it  ^^'^^^  of  his  own  door,  he  did  not  wait  to  announce 
l^J^l  himself  or  his  companion,  but  led  the  way  to  a  large 
front  room  from  which  a  bright  hght  came  gleaming  o'er  the 
dripping  vines  and  shrubs  that  threw  their  protecting  arms 
around  the  dwelling — a  secluded  little  nest  of  Doric  architec- 
ture— a  fancy,  pretty,  cosy  little  residence,  surrounded  by, 
and  secluded  with  many  varieties  oi  trees  and  flowers,  among 
which  and  most  prominent,  were  the  dwarf  magnolia  with  its 
queenly  blossoms  ;  while  the  orange  stood  in  ihe  rear  guard- 
ing; the  lesser  beauties  that  embelhsh  a  rich  man's  Southern 
home. 

The  gleaming  light  threw  an  air  oi  cheerfulness  all  around, 
although  the  rain  was  now  descending  in  torrents,  as  if  in 
mighty  wrath  at  losing  its  victims.  He  dragged  his  compan- 
ion forward  ;  or,  ratlier  his  companion  supported  him  ;  leav- 
ing the  tired  beasts  to  seek  shelter  as  best  they  could. 

Harold  would  have  remonstrated,  and  was  loath  to  enter 
the  house  so  precipitately,  a  stranger  and  in  such  a  plight, 
but  what  could  he  do  ?  The  man  was  now  almost  an  helpless 
burden  in  his  arms. 

The  wife  was  still  up  waiting  and  watching  for  the  husband 
whom  she  dreaded  ;  but  when  he  entered,  almost  borne  in  the 
arms  of  Harold,  she  started  forward,  then  stood  transfixed — 
as  if  petrified  ;  then  a  look  of  great  astonishment  and  conster- 
nation gave  way  to  one  of  sudden  recognition,  and  the  deadly 
paleness  that  had  o'erspread  her  cheek  receded,  and  left  it 
blushing  like  a  pink  rose. 


BLUE  AND  gray:'  29- 


Beware,  Jenny  !  be  on  your  guard,  little  woman  :  your  life 
may  have  been  touched  with  a  blighting  hand,  yet  no  gossip- 
ping  slanderers,  with  their  aspic  tongues  or  stings,  have  ever 
dared  to  touch  your  own  good  name; — that  which  is  "far 
better  than  riches" — lar  better  to  die  a  victim  of  betrayed 
confidence,  live  a  life  of  hopeless  joys — despairing  :  than  des- 
paired of. 

Few  eyes  of  bold  men  have  ever  caught  your  gaze  ;  many 
have  wondered  why  3^ou  live  so  secluded  ;  and  what  you  were 
like,  if  young  and  pretty,  or,  old  and  homely  ;  few  knew  you 
intimately — a  real  secluded  home  body,  3'et  none  knew  you 
but  to  love  3^ou. 

And  so  Harold  had  seen  man}-  other  ladies  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, but  never  Jenny  June,  until  the  accident  related  in  our 
opening  chapter  ;  then  she  was  the  bearer  of  a  package  that 
had  been  placed  in  her  hands  b\^  one  who  had  eluded  the  vig- 
ilance of  all,  and  ran  the  blockade  ;  and  she  had  intended  to 
deliver  it  in  person  to  Colonel ,  she  supposing  it  con- 
tained important  documents. 

And  they  ivei'e  important  documents  :  serving  in  several 
and  never  to  be  forgotten  incidents  and  occurrences  in  the 
lives  of  many ;  some  gone  through  the  land  of  shade  and 
shadow  to  a  far  off  home  ;  some  still  batthng  for  their  rights, 
and  nobly  defending  their  countrj-'s  honor  and  cause  ;  while 
others  —  well,  shame  for  them  ;  and  an  inward  scorn  forbids 
me  to  speak  ;  but  the  word  "renegade"  will  speak  for  itself 
and  them. 

And  these  same  documents  had  been  the  silent  cause  of 
their  first  meeting,  and  in  the  deep  recesses  of  a  heart  torn 
by  conflicting  emotions  —  yet  truthful  —  a  mirror  reflected  the 
features  of  him  whom  she  would  blush  to  mention  ;  and  he, 
too,  often  sighed  and  whispered  :  "I  feel  the  pressure  of  that 
little  foot,  not  only  on  m\'  hand,  but  deeply  in  my  heart;" 
and,  in  spite  of  all  reasoning  and  bis  better  judgment,  his  fate 
or  his  folly — best  known  as  his  feelings,  still  led  him  to  seek 
on  every  conceivable  occasion  possible,  and  on  any  slight 
pretext,  that  part  of  the  country. 

x\nd  at  last  they  have  met  under  the  same  roof,  coming  in 


so  '' BLUE  AND  gray: 


constant  contact,  attending  a  sick  person,  and  that  person — 
her  husband  ! 

Mr.  Bancroft  had  no  sooner  entered  the  room,  than  he 
said  gaspingly  to  his  wife  :  ''  This  young  man  saved  my  Hfe 
and  I — am — dying"  and  fell  forward,  but  Harold  caught  him 
and  placed  him  on  a  lounge  ;  when  it  was  at  once  perceived 
that  he  was  in  a  fit  or  something  of  the  kind. 

"  Some  hot  water  and  mustard,  quick!"  Mrs.  Bancroft 
clasped  her  hands  as  if  in  agony,  and  said:  '*  We  have  no 
mustard,  will  salt  do?  " 

«' Yes,  madam,  something  must  be  done  quickly — I  have  a 
pocket  lancet,  bring  bandages — for  I  shall  bleed  him." 

Fortunately,  already  boiling,  was  a  teakettle  of  water,.  She 
returned  to  the  room  with  it,  bringing  also  bandages,  besides 
the  salt.  Accompanying  her  was  a  young  girl,  some  thir- 
teen years  old,  a  niece  of  Mr.  Bancroft,  carrying  a  foot-tub, 
etc. 

''  Stay,  Maggie,  and  assist  us  with  your  uncle,"  said  the 
lady. 

''  Where  does  3^our  physician  reside,  madam?  You  had  bet- 
ter dispatch  some  one  for  him." 

"  There  is  not  a  living  soul  on  the  place  but  ourselves  and 
the  children  ;  if  it  were  da3'light  Charley  might  go,  but  he  is 
entirely  too  young  to  be  trusted  alone  at  night — Can't  you  go, 
Margaret?  " 

<'  Oh,  no  ;  no  Aunt  I  I'm  too  much  afraid,  and  it's  raining, 
tool" 

"  Certainly  not,  madam  !  I  will  go  ;  he  seems  to  be  reviv- 
ing and  likely  to  soon  be  better.  Did  your  husband  ever  have 
one  of  these  spells  before?" 

"  Something  similar,  but  not  so  severe  ;  his  general  health 
is  far  from  good." 

"  If  you  will  tell  me  where  3'Our  physician  resides,  I  will  go 
at  once  and  summon  him,  for  I  have  exhausted  my  little  stock 
of  knowledge;    or  rather,  I  have  not  the  medicine   needed." 

''  Oh,  please  don't  go,  sir  !  "  cried  Margaret  in  alarm  ;  I'm 
afraid  he'll  die  or  get  up  and  kill  us  all." 

"  Hush,  Mag  !  "  the  proud  woman  said  ;  and  she  whispered 


BLUE  AND  GRAVy  31 


— '*  You  should  be  ashamed  to  speak  so  of  your  uncle,  and 
especially  before  a  stranger." 

''  But  Jenn}',  you  know  he  gets  mighty  crazy  sometimes. 
Oh,  please  don't  go,  sir  ! '' 

"  Leave  the  room,  Mag !  go  and  see  to  Lillian,  I  hear  her 
fretting.  I'll  be  there  in  a  moment — take  the  kettle  with  3'ou, 
and  place  it  back  upon  the  fire." 

The  girl  gave  Harold  a  pleading  look,  but  did  as  her  aunt 
bade  her. 

Those  two,  with  strange  conflicting  feelings  were  again 
alone,  save  the  presence  of  the  unconscious  man.  Their  eyes 
met  and  fell.  Harold  brave  in  battle — fearing  no  man,  fear- 
ing no  danger — now  became  weak.  Giving  way  to  an  im- 
pulse that  seized  him,  he  grasped  her  hands — there,  in  the 
verv  presence  of  her  husband,  and  said  pityingly,  consoling- 
ly, but  in  low  tones  :  ''You  need  a  friend,  let  me  be  that 
friend.  I  know  your  secret  sorrow  and  can  imagine  your 
troubles."  Putting  his  hand  into  one  of  his  pockets  and  pro- 
ducing the  two  vials  of  morphine,  he  handed  them  to  her  and 
said  :  "  Here  is  what  your  husband  risked  his  life  to  procure, 
even  going  into  the  Federal  lines  to  obtain  it ;  some  of  our 
men  had  arrested  and  threatened  to  shoot  Uim,  when  I  hap- 
pened on  the  spot.  Now  give  me  the  directions  and  I  will 
go." 

Jenny  bent  forward  as  she  almost  fainted  on  the  body  of 
her  husband — who  now  began  to  move  and  talk  in  an  inco- 
herent manner  Once  again,  as  months  before,  Harold  raised 
that  head,  now  bent  low,  yet  still  so  regally  crowned  with 
woman's  chief  glory. 

Lifting  her  head  gently,  he  looked  into  her  face  and  said  : 
*'  Will  you  give  up  now?  You  doubtless  suffer,  but  he  nozu 
needs  your  care — be  strong  I  for  you  cannot  put  aside  the 
'  Hand  '  that  marks  out  our  pathways,  now  tell  me  quick,  for 
there  is  no  time  to  be  lost." 

^  She  falteringly  gave  him  the  direction,  and  he  departed  on 
his  errand  of  merc}^ ;  not  waiting  to  catch  his  horse,  but 
plowed  through  mud  and  mire,  thinking  not  of  self,  but  of 
the  pale  lone  watcher  left  behind  in  the  sick  room. 


' '  BL  UE  A  ND  GRA  T. ' 


Doctor  Grumble  came  in  fuming  and  puffing — out  of  tem- 
per at  being  called  out  on  such  a  night  and  to  "  Dick,  who  is 
alwa3^s  sick,"  etc.  ;  but  when  he  beheld  the  condition  of  his 
patient,  he  ceased  and  spoke  in  soft  and  pit3'ing  tones  to 
Jenny. 

"  Ah  child  !  he  has  them  again  !  poor  pus  !  how  are  the  lit- 
tle kittens?"  trying  to  divert  her  mind  from  its  present 
trouble — she  answered  : 

''  Thev  are  well,  thank  you  ;  but  what  must  I  do  doctor  !  " 

"Do?  do?  why,  let  me  seel"  examining  his  patient, 
"  wh3',go  in  quick  sticks  and  bring  a  strong  cup  of  hot  coffee 
to  that  dripping  young  fellow  ;  he  looks  pretty  blue,  too  ;  and 
if  you  don't  mind  sirrah,  you  will  '  be  struck  down  with  a 
chill." 

"Never  mind  me,  doctor,  I'm  strong  enough,  and  don't 
wish  to  give  Mrs.  Bancroft  an}'  more  trouble  than  she  has  at 
present — perhaps  I  had  better  go  on  to  camp." 

"We  cannot  spare  you  3''et  m}"  good  fellow,"  said  the 
doctor. 

"Not  to-night,  ]\Ir.  CHnton,"  and  her  pleading  look  ex- 
pressed more  than  her  words. 

She  left  the  room  ;  the  doctor  muttered  "  poor  girl !  poor 
girl!"  he  again  felt  the  pulse  of  his  patient;  opened  his 
medicine  case  ;  mixed  a  powder,  and  with  Harold's  assistance, 
poured  it  down  the  sick  mail's  throat. 

"  We  must  get  him  to  bed,  and  if  what  he  has  just  taken 
produces  no  effect  in  a  short  time,  we  shall  have  to  use  chlo- 
roform. " 

He  then  inquired  of  Harold  all  the  particulars  of  the  at- 
tack, and  again  exclaimed  "  poor  girl !  poor  girl !  " 

Jenny  soon  returned  bearing  on  a  waiter  two  cups  of  steaming 
coffee.  "  Thank  you  Jenny,  your  coffee  would  cure  a  chill 
every  time — no  humbug  about  this  coffee — no  burnt  sugar  or 
parched  corn  about  that  coffee,  young  man,  but  the  genuine 
stuff  ;  what  a  pity  Dick  can't  get  down  a  cup  of  it,  for  it  would 
be  one  of  the  best  medicines  he  could  take,  but  the  next  best 
thing  is  to  get  him  to  bed  ;  and  you  young  man  to  get  on  dry 
clothes,  or  dry  those  you  have  on." 


BLUE  AND  GRAi:'  3S 


*'  The  doctor  and  Harold  supported  Mr.  Bancroft  to  the 
next  room  and  placed  him  in  bed — previously  removing  his 
outer  garments  ;  — he  now  began  to  rare  like  a  madman  ;  his 
ravings  awoke  two  little  curly  pated  children — one,  a  handsome 
boy  of  about  five  years  ;  the  other,  a  delicate  lovely  girl 
about  two,  who  was  being  soothed  to  rest,  rocked  in  the  arms 
of  Maggie.  Both  children  apparently  attracted  toward  our 
hero,  as  he  stood  in  front  of  a  bright  blazing  fire,  on  which  a 
few  pieces  of  light  kindling  wood  had  been  placed,  so  that  he 
might  dry  his  damp  clothes. 

While  standing  in  front  of  the  fire,  the  old  doctor  took  a 
keen  survey  of  Harold  and  then  said  : 

"If  I  am  not  mistaken,  I  have  met  you  before,  but  some 
months  since  ;  was'nt  you  the  young  fellow  that  w^as  taken 
sick  near  old  Madame  Doesticks  and  stayed  there  awhile?  " 

"Yes  sir!  riding  in  the  sun  one  day,  I  was  taken  with  a 
kind  of  sunstroke,  and  those  people  were  very  kind  to  me." 

"Yes,  yes,  I  know;  but  don't  go  there  any  more,  young 
man." 

"Why,  sir?"  but  Jenny  coming  in,  interrupted  the  con- 
versation. 

The  night  with  its  dark  and  dismal  hues,  winged  slowly  on 
its  way  :  morning  fresh  and  new  came  in  weeping,  but  soon 
old  "  Sol  "  shone  forth,  in  w^elcoming  another  day,  scattering 
the  clouds  and  adorning  all  around  in  the  light  that  shone 
from  his  own  bright  eyes,  and  warming  all  that  was  cold  from 
his  own  big  heart. 


li^  ^.^.jSusiip.  ^.^  Ap.^.  Ai^M  Ap.  skA^f^Jp^B^^M^^MA^.  3^. « J5i  «>,  fl>  ji>  ^.j>.  fk.f>,  iJif>.  f>.  f>.  p,  /',  jii, 


CHAPTTER    VI. 


Fire!  Fire!  is  loudly  heard, 
Help!   Fire!  repeat  more  shrill, 
Fire!   Help!  the  echo'd  word 
O'er  valley,  rock  and  hill. 


tAROLD  had  gone  ;  neighbors  came  in  to  assist  in  nurs- 
ing, and  to  restrain  the  violent  actions  of  the  derancred 
and  sick  man  ;  and  days  passed  over  that  household 
ere  they  found  rest  or  relief  from  his  convalescence  : — but  let 
us  follow  Harold. 

Upon  his  arrival  at  camp,  he  was  summoned  to  report  to 
his  commanding  officer;  he  explained  as  best  he  could,  his 
unexpected  absence,  without  exposing  the  conduct  of  the  out- 
side picket  guard,  and  was  seriously  reprimanded  for  his 
apparent  neglect  of  duty.  Said  the  officer  :  "  Your  case  must 
be  reported  at  headquarters  ;"  but  the  news  brought  in  b}' 
the  scouts  was  of  so  engrossing  a  nature,  that  it  scattered  all 
other  thoughts  and  business  from  said  officer's  mind. 

Harold  found  chances  to  call  several  times,  but  found  Mr. 
Bancroft  not  much  improved. 

The  prisoners  had  all  been  exchanged,  and  the  scouts 
brought  in  word  that  the  Yankees  were  again  advancing  in 
crreat  force. 

All  was  once 
and  forward 
headed,   the    latter 
— hunting  and  gatherin 
.and  chickens. 

"  Never  mind  3^our  spoons,"  shouts  back  a  reckless  rider  ; 
•*'  they  say  old  Banks  don't  fight  for  spoons."  "  Oh  !  "  said 
a  grim  looking  Texan,  '*  he  is  after  stealing  into  the  old 
'  Lone  Star '  this  pop,  but  I  reckon  he'll  crawl  over  dead 
■bodies  a  plenty  afore  he  gets  thar." — "  Hide  your  chickens. 


commotion  ;    scouts  riding  backward 


more 
siornal  flags  wavinjx 
barefooted 


women  and  children  bare- 
nning    hither    and    thither 
the  little  now  left  them — cows,  pigs. 


''  BLUE  AND  GRAI?'  35 

there  will  surely  be  straprglin^  preachers  in  the  rear  of  those 
blue  birds." — "Don't  be  afraid." — and  such  like;  with 
"Goodbye,  God  bless  you,"  etc.,  were  the  admonitions, 
exclamations  and  farewell  speeches  of  the  Confederates  as 
they  strode  along. 

What  cared  the  brave  Southern  women  then  ?  now,  they 
may  tremble  and  can  be  nervous,  but  then — well  we  didn't 
meet  any  but  who  were  truly  brave — bearing  privations,  and 
over-riding  difficulties  with  a  firmness  and  fortitude  equaling 
that  of  the  men,  and  they  can  well  compare  with  those  of 
ancient  times — the  brave  Spartan  mothers.  The  next  cry  is 
"  a  gunboat !  " — "  a  gunboat  I  "  it  is  close  by  ;  the  Yankees 
say  "they  are  going  to  shell  and  burn  the  town;" — the 
scouts  flash  by — a  shell  whistles  through  the  air  and  bursts 
beyond  the  town — boom  !  boom  I — a  ball  passes  through  a 
house  and  an  armour  right  over  the  heads  of  a  lady  and  her 
child,  and  splinters  scatter  all  around,  and  it  finally  lodges  in 
a  tall  oak  that  is  standing  in  rear  of  the  dwelHng.  ' 

Boom  !  boom  !  hear  the  roar  ;  they  are  firing  at  the  scouts. 
"  Look  out  I  hear  them!  here  they  come,  pop!  pop!  pop! 
pop  !  and  the  Federals  came  dashing  in  sight — whooping  and 
schreeching  like  savages. 

"  Ah  !  another  poor  fellow  is  shot !  " 

"  Look  out  for  the  sharpshooters  !  there  they  go,  the  d — d 
rebels." 

This  time  it  was  a  young  Federal  officer,  while  leading  the 
advance  column  of  Federals,  that  were  craving  the  blood 
of  those  of  their  countrymen  ;  hke  wild  beasts  seeking  to 
destroy  each  other. 

He  is  a  son  of  the  grand  old  State  of  New  York.  He  is  car- 
ried into  the  nearest  house,  where  already  lies  a  poor  sick  man 
— the  home  of  true  Jenny  June.  He,  too,  is  laid  on  the  lounge, 
and  again  is  the  old  doctor  summoned.  The  man  is  left  in  the 
doctor's  care  with  a  detailed  nurse,  while  the  army  passes  on. 

Some  weeks  go  by  ;  several  battles  are  fought,  and  then 
that  grand  arm}^  retreats — dividing  as  they  retire,  and  eventu- 
ally returned  to  the  "  even  tenor  of  their  way." 

Mr.  Bancroft  is  somewhat  better,   but  still  sick;  the  rebs 


BLUE  AND  GRA7': 


come  back,  and  the  wounded  Federal  was  a  prisoner.  He 
was  young  and  handsome  :  so  of  course,  the  young  ladies 
sympathized  with  him,  and  he  was  kindly  nursed  by  all.  He 
had  been  very  low,  but  was  beginning  to  recover.  It  had 
been  dangerous  to  remove  him  then,  so  said  the  doctor,  so 
when  the  rebel  boys  returned  some  of  them  came  to  see  him, 
among  them  Harold,  who  was  the  first  to  do  him  a  friendly 
turn  ;  for  as  yet,  he  was  not  able  to  leave  his  bed. 

Again  it  was  a  dark,  but  quiet  serene  night ;  at  sunset,  how- 
ever, heat-lightening  would  span  the  firmament  with  its  bril- 
liant flashes — ^lightening  all  around  ;  and  while  Harold  and 
Jenny  stood  alone,  gazing  at  its  quivering  and  wavering  mo- 
tions, he  told  her  that  he  was  ordered  to  report  at  headquar- 
ters ;  and  that  he  would  leave  on  the  morrow  ;  he  only  asked 
to  be  remembered,  and  begged  a  tiny  flower  she  had  pinned 
on  her  bosom. 

And  now  it  was  night — late  was  the  hour — but  no  sleep  had 
come  to  soothe  her  throbbing  brow,  no  quiet  to  the  tumul- 
tuous heaving  of  her  beating  heart. 

Listen  to  her  words:  ''  I  cannot  I  I  will  not  stand  it  I 
Have  not  stronger  wills  than  mine  given  way  under  far  less 
pressure  than  I  suffer?  I  must !  I  will  find  a  soothing  balm 
in  some  direction." 

She  thinks  of  the  drops  given  her  husband,  to  quiet  and 
bring  repose.  No  sooner  the  thought  intrudes  into  her  mad- 
dening brain,  than  it  is  acted  upon;  and  taking  the  vial — *' Bat- 
ley's  Sedative  " — "  only  a  few  drops,"  she  said,  pours  out  a 
few  drops  and  swallows  them  ;  finding  them  bitter  to  the  taste, 
she  goes  to  the  table,  takes  up  a  goblet  of  water,  and  while 
placing  it  to  her  lips,  catches  sight  of  her  pale,  woe-begone 
face  in  the  mirror  that  hung  on  the  wall,  her  hand  shakes — 
the  goblet  falls  to  the  floor  and  is  broken  in  pieces,  she  shivers 
and  almost  screams,  while  a  feeling  of  horror  and  dread 
sweeps  o'er  her  trembling  frame. 

'<  An  ill  omen,"  said  she,  ''something  is  going  to  happen," 
and  with  a  shudder  she  lay  down,  drawing  both  children  to- 
ward her  as  if  fearful  the  impending  doom  was  about  to 
fall  on  their  innocent  heads. 


BLUE  AND  GRAY:\  37 


Sleep  soon  overtook  her,  aye  she  slept — slept !  heeding  not 
the  strange  sound  that  came  crackling  and  roaring  from  an 
adjoining  room  used  as  a  laundry ;  she  sleeps,  sleeps 
soundly ! 

The  prisoner  or  wounded  Federal  is  awakened  by  the  un- 
usual sound,  and  calls  loudly  time  and  again:  ''Mrs.  Ban- 
croft I  oh,  Mrs.  Bancroft !  Miss  Margaret — Margaret!  they 
all  must  have  taken  sleeping  potions  or  are  deaf.  Fire  !  fire  ! 
Oh,  Heavens  !  fire  !  fire  !  "  now  yelled  the  poor  wounded 
fellow  ; — he  saw  the  blaze  as  it  came  with  its  tongue  of  flame 
toward  and  on  the  house  ;  he  crawled  to  the  head  of  the 
stairs  and  again  madly  shouted  : — "  Fire  !  !  fire  !  !  Great 
God,  they  must  all  be  dead  I  " 

All  but  Jenny  were  now  awake,  and  Harold  was  just  in 
time.  Returning  at  the  dawn  of  day  to  take  one  last  look, 
and  while  on  his  way,  he  beheld  the  blaze  as  it  burst  forth, 
and  as  he  neared  the  house  crying  Fire  !  fire  !  he  heard  in- 
side the  wounded  man's  agonizing  cries,  and  he  too  sent  forth 
louder  than  ever  that  dreaded  cry — fire — as  he  rushed  toward 
the  house,  and  burst  through  a  window. 

The  children  were  screaming — still  she  slept  on  ;  the  sick 
husband  called,  but  she  slept  on  ;  men  rushed  in  and  tried  to 
quench  the  still  advancing  flames,  yet  withal  she  sleeps.  ''  It's 
of  no  use,  the  house  must  go  ;  save  the  sick  men  !  "  is  rung 
out  in  loud  tones — still  she  sleeps. 

Harold  on  his  first  entering  the  house,  rushed  up  the  stairs 
and  brought  down  Manly,  the  wounded  Federal  officer,  and 
he  now  followed  Margaret  into  her  uncle's  room,  telling  her 
to  go  in  and  assist  her  aunt  with  the  children  ;  but  other  hands 
are  moving  the  sick  man^  mattress  and  all. 

Margaret  does  not  come ;  the  children  are  calling  out 
"  Mamma  !  mamma  !  "  Propriety  is  now  thrown  aside  with 
a  ruthless  hand,  and  he  enters  her  chamber  to  find  Margaret 
wringing  her  hands,  calling  in  vain  :  "Aunty!  Aunty!  Jen- 
ny !  Jenny  !  wake  up  !  wake  up  !  "  and  the  two  little  ones  af- 
frighted— crouched  beside  their  mother  who  still  slept. 

"  My  God  !  is  she  dead?  Jenny,  Jenny  !  "  he  felt  her  pulse, 
and  then  the  truth  flashed  across  his  troubled,  whirling  brain. 


38  ''BLUE  AND  gray: 


"Take  the  children  out,  Maggie  I  go  Charley  and  Lillie 
pet,  I  will  bring  your  mamma,  she  will  awake  as  soon  as  she 
feels  the  fresh  air." 

They  started  and  were  gone  ;  and  although  greatly  agitated 
he  had  presence  of  mind  sufficient  to  wrap  her  form  in  a 
spread  that  lay  across  the  bed  ;  then  he  carefully  raised  her 
in  his  arms,  and  followed  the  children.  He  carried  her 
across  the  yard,  and  laid  her  now  struggling  form  upon  a  heap 
of  bedding  which  the  neighbors  and  the  soldiers  had  taken 
frow  the  burning  building. 

What  a  terrible  awakening!  *'My  children,"  said  she 
dreamily. 

*'  They  are  safe  ;  all  is  saved  but  the  house  ;  you  are  now 
homeless,  Jenny." 

"  Oh  Harold,  I  know  it !  I  know  it !  the  broken  glass  ;  it 
IS  a  punishment  for  my  sin." 

*'No,  Jenny,  don't  be  superstitious:  what  have  you  been 
taking?" 

"  Onl}/^  some  of  those  drops.  I  was  so  tired  ;  but  where  are 
the  children  !" 

They  heard  her  and  came  ;  and  all  three,  her  tw^o  children 
and  Maggie,  knelt  and  caressed  her  fondly. 

Harold  placed  blankets  around  them  all. 

"Would  you  not  like  to  go  to  your  husband  ?  he  has  been 
taken  to  a  neighbor's?" 

She  answered  "  No  !  I  want  to  sleep." 

He  advised  her  to  keep  awake,  and  strove  by  conversing 
with  her  to  divert  her  thoughts,  and  to  arouse  her  from  her 
lethargy,  and  finally  succeeded  in  his  object. 

Morning  dawned  and  showed  where  had  stood  the  cosiest 
residence  for  miles  around — nothing  left  but  a  ruin — a  heap 
of  ashes,  brick  and  debris — a  complete  wreck. 

Ladies  came,  bringing  clothes,  eatables  and  hot  coffee;  doors 
were  thrown  open,  and  sympathizing  hearts  rendered  all  the 
assistance  in  their  power.  Harold  held  a  secret  conference 
with  the  wounded  Federal,  and  again  bid  all  adieu  :  a  good 
soldier,  and  although  privileged  in  many  ways,  could  not  dis- 
obey orders  from  headquarters  or  forget  the  country's  need. 


\    \    \    \    \    \    \    \   \    \    \   \    \    \   V 


1  /  /////////  /  /  /  /  / 


CHAF^TTKR    VII. 

What  is  friendship  but  a  name, 

A  charm  that  lulls  to  sleep; 
A  shade  that  follows  wealth  or  fame 

And  leaves  the  wretch  to  weep." — Goldsmith . 


J4ET  US  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  Harold.  He  starts  on 
'm/fl  his  way  with  a  sad  misgiving,  travelled  roads,  by-paths, 
^^  lonely  lanes  hedged  in  by  the  green  and  thorny  Cher- 
okee— through  the  woods  with  their  tangled  briars  and  spear- 
pointed  palmettos — across  prairies,  stretching  for  miles  around, 
barren  of  trees  or  shrubs,  with  but  an  occasional  sign  of  life 
or  civilization  to  dispel  the  mournful  loneliness  of  his  lonely 
way. 

Finding  a  stream  of  water,  our  gallant  rider  paused  upon 
its  brink,  and  taking  advantage  of  a  small  cluster  of  willows 
by  its  side,  he  halts,  and  while  he  raises  his  cap  from  a  noble 
brow  and  brushes  with  one  sweep  of  his  well-shaped  hand 
the  dark-brown  curls  aside,  let  us  creep  up  near  him  and  take 
a  peep  into  his  most  inmost  thoughts,  and  like  a  wicked  eaves- 
dropper, listen  to  his  soliloquy  : 

"How  beautiful  I  all  nature  seems  to  be  reposing:  how 
generous  are  the  gifts  bestowed  on  ungrateful  man,  and  he  is 
never  satisfied  ;  ever-craving  for  something  more,  as  if  an  All- 
wise  Providence  did  not  know  our  wants  and  needs.  Why, 
see  those  little  birds  darting  across  and  around  my  path,  does 
He  not  say — ''  Even  a  sparrow  shall  not  fall  to  the  ground?" 
Well,  well !  I  am  fatigued,  nearly  worn  out,  so  come  what 
will,  I  shall  take  advantage  of  that  poor  shanty,  if  at  all  habit- 
able, that  I  see  over  yon  distant  ridge,  and  rest  myself. 

"  I  wonder  when  this  cruel  war  will  cease?  it  is  a  down- 
right cruelty ;  poor  humanity  !  selfish,  egotistical  beings  I  It 
is  rumored  that  Gen.  Kirby  Smith  is  preparing  to  cross  the 


40  ''BLUE  AND  GRAl 


river;  it  is  all  nonsense;  and  what  good  would  it  do?  His 
army  w^ould  be  cut  off  and  be  completely  demoralized.  I 
see  by  mother's  last  letter  that  the  middle  and  working  classes, 
in  fact  the  people  of  England  are  in  favor  of  recognizing  the 
Confederac}^  I  wish  to  goodness  Lord  Palmerston  and  the 
Parliaments^at  home  would  only  look  at  things  in  their  proper 
light,  and  then,  perhaps,  there  would  be  a  chance  of  recog- 
nition. Poor  little  Confederacy !  you  and  Jenny  remind  me 
of  each  other.  Another  rumor  I  have  heard,  is,  that  we  are 
to  be  sent  to  Arkansas.     Well,  one  thing  is  certain,  I  will  go 

neither  way,  but  shall  speak  my  mind  pretty  freely  to  Col. , 

he  certainly  hasn't  forgotten  our  contract.  I  wish  to  be  trans- 
ferred, and  will  join  Louisiana's  brave  scouts,  or  will  retire 
from  the  fray.  Poor  mother!  how  she  warned  me;  but  I 
cannot  resist  feeling  S3'mp8thy  for  the  Southern  cause,  and 
will  still  lend  them  m}^  little  aid  ;  for  my  heart  is  fairly  and 
forever  bound  by  the  ties  of  friendship,  that  cannot,  that  shall 
not  be  broken. 

■•'  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  friendship  indeed  I  why  should  I  try  to  de- 
ceive myself,  or  deny  the  truth,  or  the  true  state  of  my  feel- 
ings? How  strange  !  passing  strange  that  I  should  have  ven- 
tured across  oceans,  trav'led  from  land  to  land,  and  never 
before  captured  by  the  enthralling  beauties  of  love  ;  3'et  at 
last  to  meet  my  fate,  and  here  !  yes,  the  object  of  my  boyish 
dreams  in  the  lovely  form  of  another  man's  wife.  Rich  I 
pretty  rich  !  isn't  it — eh  Harold  I 

"And  yet  cruel  fate  and  I  would  soothe  my  conscience,  by 
that  misplaced,  much  abused  word.  Friendship.  No  use 
Harold,  boy  !  no  use  to  try  and  deceive  yourself.  Ah  well ! 
*  It's  a  long  lane  that  has  no  turning.'  I  shall  go  back  very 
soon  or  die  in  the  fruiltless  attempt ;  go  back  and  watch 
over  her  Hke  a  brother;"  and  again  he  laughed,  "oh  yes, 
I'll  be  her  brother !  she  needs  one,  God  knows  !  there  will  be 
no  harm  in  that — harm?  Who  said  there  was?  Woe  betide 
an}^  man  that  breathes  aught  but  praise  of  that  hallowed 
name.  But  what  possessed  her  to  take  those  drops  the  night 
of  the  fire?  My  God  I  " — as  a  sudden  terrible  thought  crossed 
his  brain — "  No  !  no  !  that  cannot  be  ;  she  does  not  look  like 


BLUE  AND  GRAT:'  41 


'One  that  is  accustomed  to  their  use,  she  has  too  much  strength 
of  mind  to  be  guilty  of  that ;  ah  !  now  a  thought  strikes  me, 
yes  Jenn}',  Jenny — dear  little  woman  I  I  suspect  your  secret, 
and  know  almost  your  secret  thoughts  ;  but  they  are  sacred, 
locked  inside  the  deepest  recesses  of  my  heart ; — poor  tired, 
sorely  tried  little  woman  !  Never  mind,  time  works  wonders. 
I  must  go  back  and  will  be  to  you  a  brother,  ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  so 
liurry  up,  old  boy  !  hurry  up  !  ' 

Here  he  spurred  up  his  horse — his  only  travelling  com- 
panion— a  splendid  Enghsh  bred  animal,  a  rare  beauty  beside 
the  poorly  fed  '^  Creole  ponies"  and  Mexican  mustangs  which 
most  of  the  soldiers  were  now  compelled  to  ride,  as  all  the 
best  stock  and  finest  animals  were  fast  wearing  out,  many  hav- 
ing been  appropriated  by  the  advancing  armies,  and  having 
but  few  opportunities  to  reinforce  themselves  in  any  shape  or 
manner. 

Arriving  in  front  of  the  shelter  before  mentioned,  a  rude 
looking  hut,  or  cabin  as  we  call  them  down  South,  well  plas- 
tered with  mud  or  a  kind  of  red  clay,  our  hero  dismounted 
and  called  loudly  before  attempting  to  enter  what  was  only  a 
pretence  of  a  gate — merely  a  large  -pannel  of  fence  or  harsy 

He  repeated  the  call,  and  as  he  did  so  a  coarse  looking  wo- 
man, dressed  in  faded  homespun,  came  to  the  door,  and  at 
the  same  time,  as  if  just  cognizant  of  his  presence,  a  couple 
•of  ferocious  looking  hounds  came  bounding  toward  him, 
while  some  half  dozen  curs — real  starvellings,  joined  in  cho- 
rus with  most  unearthly  yells  and  discordant  sounds. 

Finally  the  old  woman,  who  being  slightly  deaf  could  not 
hear  well,  drew  from  her  shoulders  an  old  yellow  cotton 
handkerchief,  speckled  and  torn  ;  and  with  an  angry  motion 
threw  it  over  her  head  for  it  was  mid-day,  and  the  sun  was 
pouring  down  his  hot  and  burning  rays.  She  called  the  dogs 
in  with  her  sharpest  tones  and  bade  them  '*  shut  up  their  un- 
earthly squeals,"  and  on  getting  near  the  '  bars  '  inquired  of 
.Harold,  in  no  gentle  tone,  what  he  wanted. 

"  To  stop  and  rest  awhile,  madam,  and  something  to  eat — 
a  slice  of  bread  and  a  glass  of  milk,  if  you  have  it,  for  which 
I  am  willing  to  pay  in  gold." 


42  ''  BL UE  A ND  GRA  Y 


"  Gold,"  said  she — as  a  pair  of  greedy  twinkling  gray  eyes 
taking  in  at  one  sweep  his  whole  form, —  *' You're  fooling 
man  :  you  haint  got  no  gold,  and  I  guess  you  belongs  to  them 
ar  robbers  or  gorills  wot  killed  and  done  murdered  Sam  Pike, 
and  tuck  um  cattle  off,  and  acted  so  bad  towards  his  gals 
that"  — 

"  Stop,  stop,  good  woman!  "  I  am  no  robber  or  guerilla,, 
simply  a  harmless  Confederate  soldier ;  have  you  no  man 
around  to  protect  you  madam." 

"  Thar  yo  be  !  Now  yo  wants  to  find  oos  to  hum,  an  all 
bout  us,  duz  yez?  I'll  fotch  Tom  and  Jim.  No  men's?  yo'd 
best  be  gitting.  Why  there's  my  ole  man  too,  an  those  thar 
dogs — raal  blood  hounds — so  look  out  and  git." 

"  iNIy  good  woman,  listen  to  me  ;  look  at  me,  do  I  look  like 
a  robber?  Here  is  a  small  piece  of  gold.  Let  me  come  in 
and  rest — and  you  will  never  regret  it." 

"  Wa'll  I'll  see  me  ole  man  ;  but  look  out  for  Tom  and  Jim 
if  ye  gets  to  cuttin  up."  She  trotted  off,  yet  looking  back  as 
though  still  a  little  undecided  or  alarmed  ;  but  soon  returned 
to  the  door,  called  the  dogs,  and  shut  them  up,  then  motioned 
to  Harold  to  come  inside. 

On  entering  the  door  he  perceived  an  old  man  bolstered  up, 
and  sitting  in  a  rickety  and  used  up  old  rocking  chair,  with 
feet  bandaged  ;  everything  in  the  room  betokened  poverty, 
but  much  neater  than  the  majority  of  such  shanties  in  that 
section  of  country  usually  were. 

'*  Come  in  sir,"  said  the  old  man,  "  my  ole  ooman  is  mitey 
skeered  an  ticklish  about  them  ar  pranks  wots  bin  dun  a  leetle 
furder  up  country.  Yer  see,  thar's  bin  so  awful  imports  wots 
cum  from  that  way — but  I  tell'd  her — the  old  ooman — I  specs 
yer  wos  a  raal  gent ;  fer  they  wud  a  tuck  wot  they  wanted, 
and  gim  nuthin  but  cusses — en3^way — they — they  wud'ntgi  us 
gold.  We  hasn't  got  much,  butyo  be  welcum  to  that.  I  guess 
yo  must  have  missed  yer  road.     Be  yer  going  to  Shrifport?  " 

"  I  am  on  m}^  way  to  Gen.  Smith's  headquarters  ;  doubtless 
I  am  a  little  out  of  the  usual  path  ;  the  beauty  of  the  country 
may  have  led  me  a  little  astray ;  but  you,  sir,  can  direct  me 
right,  I  presume?  " 


BLUE  AND  gray: 


"  Wal,  yes — this  confounded  old  roomatick  cum  on  from 
gettin  wet  tuther  day  ; — but  if  I  can't  sir,  my  ole  ooman  can. 
But  now  ole  ooman  yer'd  better  try  to  git  up  summut  fer  the 
gent  ter  eat." 

Harold  and  the  old  man  chatted  away,  but  soon  the  ole 
ooman  came  in  from  the  adjoining  room  and  placed  a  cracked 
plate  and  a  knife  and  fork  upon  the  little  table,  then  retired, 
but  quickly  returning  with  what  our  hero  thought  must  be  a 
smoking  pan  of  the  green  leaves  of  cabbage  with  a  small 
piece  of  bacon  in  the  centre  ;  then  a  plate  of  poor  Confeder- 
ate stand-b}^ — *'  corn-bread.'' 

The  old  man  told  Harold  to  "  sit  up  and  help  himself  ;"  he 
did  as  he  was  bade,  while  the  old  lad}^  again  went  out — but 
she  soon  returning  said  : 

"  This  is  all  we've  got ;  I've  got  two  or  three  old  hens  left, 
and  they  must  have  laid  those  two  eggs  for  you — being  as 
they  ain't  laid  in  a  long  while  afore  to  day." 

She  then  went  to  a  cupboard  and  unwrapping  a  piece  of 
cloth,  brought  forth  some  huge  slices  of  wheaten  bread, 
putting  these  beside  the  eggs,  she  said:  "This  is  your 
dazzert." 

y  Thank  you  good  woman,  don't  think  me  inquisitive  ;  but 
will  you  tell  me  what  kind  of  salad  this  is?  " 

"  'Taint  no  kind  of  salad  at  all,  sir — it's  ^6'/l'^-greens,  and 
it's  mitey  good,  wen  yer  can't  get  better." 

However,  our  hero  did'nt  agree  with  her,  neither  did  he 
seem  to  relish  the  corn-bread,  for  he  had'nt  been  raised  on  it, 
as  a  '  Southern  planter '  once  told  an  Englishman  that  was  in 
his  employ,  who  complained  of  his  diet  of  corn-bread  and 
pork,  and  who  asked  for  wheat  bread  and  fresh  beef,  remark- 
ing that  *  he  had'nt  been  raised  on  that  kind  of  food."  "  Well, 
I  was  raised  on  it ;  and  I  eat  it  now — and  enjoy  it." — '^  Well, 
I  was'nt  raised  on  it,  nor  do  I  enjoy  it,"  said  the  Englishman 
— and  so  with  Harold — but  he  really  enjoyed  the  wheaten 
bread  and  eggs — thankful  in  his  heart  that  those  two  wise  old 
hens  had  laid  those  two  eggs  for  his  esfecial  benefit.  After 
dining,  he  inquired  of  the  old  man  if  he  might  unsaddle  and 
stable  his  horse,  and  if  he  had  any  feed  for  sale. 


44  ''  BLUE  A ND  GRA 2 


The  old  man  hesitated,  then  told  him  the  *'  ole  ooman  had 
a  little  corn  hided,"  but  he  should  have  some  of  it.  ''Them 
darn'd  Yanks  cleaned  us  most  out  the  last  time  they  come'd 
this  way." 

Harold  went  outside,  unfastened  and  unsaddled  his  tired 
horse,  and  led  him  toward  what  appeared  to  be  a  kind  of 
stable,  dog  kennel,  etc.  He  heard  the  neighing  of  another 
animal  inside,  and  upon  entering,  beheld  a  little  black  pony : 
"  I  have  seen  3^ou  somewhere  that  is  certain,"  thought  he — 
"I  believe  it  is  Sable  I — Sable,  old  fellow,  how  are  you?" 
and  as  he  spoke  to  him  and  called  his  name ;  the  little 
fellow  neighed  and  seemed  to  know  that  he  had  found  a 
friend. 

Harold  at  once  resolved  that  he  would  possess  the  pony  if 
possible,  and  take  it  along  with  him  ;  so  after  petting  him 
again  and  again,  he  went  once  more  into  the  shanty. 

Bright  and  early  the  next  morning  he  started — not  only 
riding  his  favorite  animal,  but  leading  also  Jenny's  little  pet 
*' Sable" 

**  Yes,"  the  old  man  said,  he  was  willing  to  part  with  him.  ; 
*'a'Yank'  had  left  him  there,  for  his  feet  were  sore  and 
was  a  most  crippled  from  it,  and  had  taken  an  old  horse  of 
his  that  was'nt  much  account  an3^wa3^  We  have  fed  him, 
and  grazed  him  sometimes,  but  he  is  not  fit  to  work,  so  I 
don't  care  if  I  do  sell  him." 

Money  was  scarce,  and  when  Harold  offered  them  two 
gold  eagles,  they  could  scarcely  believe  their  own  eyes,  and 
would  not  receive  a  cent  for  the  accommodation  and  refresh- 
ment of  himself  or  beast. 

Just  before  he  started  away,  he  inquired  of  the  ole  ooman 
— "  Where  were  '  Tom  and  Jim,'  as  he  had  not  seen  them  ;" 
she  pointed  to  an  old  rifle  and  a  much  used  shot  gun  that  stood 
in  a  corner,  and  said  :   ''  Thar  am  '  Tom  '  and  '  yim.'  " 


^^i^ 
^^s^ 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"There  is  a  sound  of  thunder  afar, 
Storm  in  the  South  that  darkens  the  dav, 
Storm  of  battle  and  thunder  of  war, 
Well,  if  it  do  not  roll  our  way." 

fWO  officers  were  comiortably  seated  in  the  General's 
quarters  at  "Headquarters  of  the  Confederate  Army." 
.^  One  is  dressed  in  a  fine  suit  of  navy  blue  ;  the  other, 
a  stout  burly  looking  old  fellow,  who,  like  our  hero,  wore  a 
kind  of  rusty  looking  gray — none  the  better  for  wear — but 
withal  a  brave  old  soldier  who  had  fought  many  battles,  and 
still  used  his  thought  and  skill  in  the  cause  of  the  brave  Con- 
federacy. 

Neither  officer  wore  a  sword,  and  onty  the  former  wore 
epaulets,  the  latter  having  nothing  to  grace  his  rather  stooping 
shoulders — nevertheless  he  w^as  known  as  General ,  com- 
manding such  and  such  a  brigade. 

They  had  been  gaily  chatting,  when  all  at  once  the  Gen- 
eral said  in  a  more  serious  tone — "  And  so  it  is  your  decided 
inference  that  there  will  be  peace  soon.  Colonel?  " 

''  Yes,  General,  how  can  it  be  otherwise?  You  have  lost 
Charleston,  Vicksburg  and  other  important  places  Sher- 
man's sw^eeping  everything  before  him ;  Grant  is  gradually 
undermining  Lee  ;  Richmond  must  soon  fall ;  beside,  General, 
I  should  think  your  men  were  getting  tired  out  and  fairly  dis- 
couraged— I  think  the  bravery  of  the  South  can  never  be  dis- 
puted ;  the  unffinching  courage  of  her  sons  unparalleled  ;  but 
time  is  telling  on  your  sir — your  resources  are  not  equal  to 
your  demands.  My  heart  is  with  you.  General,  though  I  do 
wear  the  blue,  and  Federal  officer's  uniform — I  shall  take 
them  off — my  best  and  warmest  feelings  being  now  with  the 
South.  You  treat  your  prisoners  as  well  as  your  limited 
resources  will  allow ;    ah  !  far  better  than   I  have  seen  your 


46  '' BLUE  AND  GRAY 


men  treated  when  prisoners  of  ours.  Yes  !  you  have  discom- 
moded yourselves  for  my  comfort — you  have  sacrificed  your 
wants  for  mine — and  never  again  shall  my  arm  be  lifted 
againot  so  noble  a  people  ;"  getting  up  he  offered  hi>s  hand, 
and  continued  :  *'  Here  is  my  hand  upon  that,  General,  and 
may  it  wither  if  I  ever  break  my  word." 

"Thank  you  I   thank  you,   Colonel;   your  heart  is  in  the 
rio-ht  place.     Would  to  God  more  would   come  out  and   ex- 
press themselves  more  openly  ;  for  I  believe  many  feel  as  you 
do,  but  are  not  sufficiently  candid  to  admit  it.     Somehow  in 
the  last  few  weeks  I  am  beginning  to  feel  discouraged,   and, 
candidly  speaking,   I  feel  your  words  to  be  prophetic.     We 
are  weakening  daily  ;  we  have  hoped  for  Enghsh  and  French 
intervention,  but  it  seems  a  forlorn  hope,  further  off  than  ever. 
Our  men  are  still  as  brave,  but  my  God,  man,  they  are  starv- 
incr ;  we  have  so  few  producers.     Texas  might  supply  us,  but 
transportation  is  out  of  the  question.     You   have   against  us 
thousands  from  the  old   as  well  as   the   new   continent ;    our 
slaves  armed  against  us,  which  I  think  a  deep,  foul  blot  upon 
the  name.of  our  Northern  compeers,  in  fact,  upon  enlightened 
civihzation.      I  speak  warmly,  I  feel  warm,  and  3^ou  would 
too,  were  you  in  our  situation  ;   our  own  propert}^  used  as  an 
instrument — a  cruel,  savage  instrument,  to  our  dethronement 
of  rights  guaranteed  by  the  Constitution  ;    we,  only  a  handful 
of  men,   most  of  them  the  best  blood  of  the  land,   contending 
against  the  World.     Well,  as  you  say,  I  do  not  see  what  else 
is  to  come  but  peace  ;  but  it  must  be  an  honorable  peace — a 
peace  settled  on  honorable  terms,  or  else,  better,  far  better, 
perish  every  drop  of  blood  in  the  South."     The  General  was 
getting  a  little  excited,  but  paused,  and  the  Federal  replied: 
"  I  am  sure.  General,  and  would  stake  my  life  and  reputa- 
tion on  it,  that  if  the  South  woicld  lay  down  their  arms,  peace 
would  be  declared,   and  all  honorably  adjusted.     The  Union 
is  the  first  consideration — it  would  be  restored — and  all  would 
be  well  again  in  a  very  short  period  of  time  ;  your  rights  and 
privileges  guaranteed  ;  and  now  that  we  are  better  acquainted, 
the  Southern  people  understood  and  appreciated,  our  social 
relationship  would  be  more  strongly  bound  and  lasting." 


BLUE  AND  gray: 


''I  trust  so,  Colonel:  my  heart,  but  not  ni}'  courage,  mis- 
gives me.  There  is  to  be  some  ha^d  fought  battles  yet,  if  not 
in  the  field,  in  the  senate,  and  in  our  legislative  halls,  but  we 
shall  see  :  time  shows  all  things." 

Ah,  Colonel !  you,  who  are  a  friend  to  Southern  rights,  and 
advocate  of  more  social  standings,  what  do  you  say  to-day? 
Where  are  the  social  relationships?  What  have  they  been, 
and  where  are  they  now?    Hark  I 

"  What  are  the  wild  waves  saying?  " 
Where  are  the  wild  beast  preying? 

Union  was  the  watchword — "  Union"  was  the  cry — "Union 
forever."     Has  it  been  Union?     Is  it  yet  Union? 

Ask  the  wild  waves  that  pitch  and  toss  a  gallant  bark,  striv- 
ing to  gain  a  shore,  or  to  anchor  in  peace  and  safety  in  the 
harbor  with  its  sister  crafts. 

Ask  the  hurricane  that  beats  and  batters  all  within  its  path 
— uplifting  huge  giant  oaks  as  straws — and  whirling  homes 
and  firesides  to  wretched  dooms,  in  its  fierce,  destructive  and 
ungovernable  rage. 

Ask  the  terrible  simoom,  with  its  scorching,  withering  and 
poisonous  breath  and'angry  tread. 

Ask  the  dwellers  of  the  mountain  range,  or  toiler  in  the 
valley  ;  ask  those  who  know  no  law,  who  plunder,  rob,  and 
sometimes  murder  those  who  chance  to  fall  in  their  path. 

Ask  God,  ye  hearts  of  stone  that  once  claimed  honor  as  the 
stepping  stone  to  deeds  as  black  as  midnight's  thunder  cloud, 
on  which  you  travelled,  spreading  animosity,  discontent,  and 
enmity  wherever  your  blighting  presence  was  made  mani- 
fest. 

Away  with  fanatic's  alluring  dreams  ;  put  deceptive  alle- 
gories to  fiight ;  hurl  back  scorn  and  defiance  at  those  who 
would  plant  the  seed  of  discord  to  grow  into  a  choked  up 
field  of  vice,  misery,  and  ruin,  until  insurrection  sweeps  with 
its  scathing  hand  thousands  of  victims  !  Away  with  all  that 
tends  to  debase  and  demoralize — for  look  at  its  past — 

Louisiana  is  still  suffering  from  the  mire  of  injustice  and 
misrepsentation,    that   the  past  has  thrown  around  her,  but, 


48  ''BLUE  A ND  GRA T. 


thank  God,  she  is  emerging  from  a  dark  and  dreary  night  of 
misgovernment*  and  disaster,  into  the  bright  and  effulgent 
rays  of  a  glorious  future,  and  will  once  more  wear  in  her 
forehead  the  ''  Crescent"  proclaiming  her  "  Queen  "  of  the 
far  famed  Sunny  South  ;  but  she  needs  a  steady  hand,  a  well 
balanced  mind,  a  warm  heart — with  principles,  noble  ;  aspi- 
rations, grand — but  for  the  good  of  the  people  and  welfare  of 
the  State — to  steer  over  the  troubled  waves,  through  the  hur- 
ricane ;  pass  the  simoom,  and  beyond  the  reach  of  "those 
hearts  of  stone  "  who  would  sacrifice  her,  and  tread  on  the 
bodies  of  every  man,  woman  and  child  to  accomphsh  their 
malignant  purposes. 

Our  present  Governor  is  the  man — he  holds  out  ''  the  olive 
branch  ;"  to  those  who  love  peace,  rather  than  war — honor, 
rather  than  shame,  he  says  "  come  ;"  to  those  who  love  truth 
better  than  falsehood,  virtue  better  than  vice,  good  better  than 
evil,  he  says  **come"  under  my  banner,  and  fold  your  tired 
wings — look  up  and  behold  my  motto  :  "  Peace  !  "  *'  Char- 
ity !  "  and  "  Prosperity  !"  come  under  and  rest  your  tired 
feet,  soothed  by  the  promise  of  hope  ;  for  the  future,  calm 
your  troubled  minds  ;  link  with  me,  in  one  grand  golden 
chain  that  shall  extend  and  reach  the  White  House  ;  rivet  the 
attention  of  all  that  is  good  and  great — then  like  an  electric 
shock,  it  shall  touch  the  noble  heart  of  him  who  stands  at  the 
helm,  and  is  guiding  the  grand  "  old  Union  Ship  "  into  peace 
and  safety." 

May  Our  Father  e'en  God  give  both  ''  Our  President  "  and 
beloved  Governor  strength  to  wield  and  conquer. 
''  E  Pluribus  Unum." 


'=Carpet  baggers. 


ixmimmmimmmiimumimmm 

<< 

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/  /  /  / 
\  \  \  \ 

TTTTTTtTTTTTTrrTTTnTTITTtTTTTrrTTTrrirTTTTTT 


"There  is  a  temple  in  ruin  stands, 

Fashion'd  by  long  forgotten  hands; 

Two  or  three  columns  and  many  a  stone 

Marble  and  granite  with  grass  overgrown! 

Out  upon  time !  it  will  leave  no  more 

Of  the  things  to  corne  than  the  things  before! 

Out  upon  time!    who  forever  will  leave 

But  enough  of  the  past  for  the  future  to  grieve." 

HAT  of  Harold  and  his  secret  troubles?  We  will  re- 
,i'n  turn,  and  continue  with  him  until  he  arrives  at  head- 
^J  quarters.  His  reveries  have  continued  ;  his  thoughts 
have  flown  on,  far  in  advance  of  his  actual  presence,  and 
only  in  sight  of  his  mental  vision. 

He  rides  on  (leading  the  little  brute  who  so  carelessly- 
guarded  his  fond  mistress)  day  after  day,  until  he  is  wearied 
and  tired  out. 

At  last  there  is  the  camp  ground,  with  its  once  white,  but 
now  worn,  ding}^  and  tattered  tents,  scattered  round,  dotting 
here  and  there,  the  open  field  and  roadside  pathways. 

As  he  rides  along  the  fines,  he  notes  the  starved  and  star- 
ing look  of  all — he  passes.  The  gaunt  appearance  of  man 
and  beast ;  the  sad  and  sorrowful  notes  of  the  few  little  twit- 
tering birds,  that  appeared  frightened  at  his  distant  approach  ;. 
it  was  only  the  buzzard,  black,  sleek  and  fat,  that  seemed 
lords  of  the  day,  prancing  and  dancing,  hopping  and  jigging^ 
flapping  their  wings — and — 

Boldly  staring  at  his  tired  beast 

As  if  to  discover, 
What  was  the  prospect  of  another  feast. 

Well,  we  must  have  our  jokes,  and  so  did  the  poor  tattered 
soldiers  have  theirs  ;  for  as  Harold  rode  along  the  lines,  leav- 
4 


oO  '' BLUE  AND  GRAY r 

ing  the  friendty  buzzard  in  his  rear,  there  came  an  echo 
from  tent  to  tent,  from  post  to  post : 

"  Here's  you  mule  !  Here's  you  mule  I  Here's  you  mule  ! 
Here's  you  mule  !  "  "Mule,''  "mule,"  "mule,"  until 
he  was  heartily  sick  and  tired  of  the  sound  and  the  name  of 
mule. 

But  now  another  sound  salutes  him,  which  too,  is  echoed, 
but  for  a  short  distance  only  : 

"Oh,  it's  Harold!"  "It's  Clinton,  boys  I  '  "Where 
have  you  been  so  long  ole  f  el !  "  "It's  Harold  I  Harold 
with  us  again." 

A  few  of  the  company  to  which  he  was  first  attached,  were 
the  ones  that  gave  him  the  last  joyful  greetings.  But  he  does 
not  tarry  long — onward  I  onward  I  wliile  his  heart  is  plead- 
ing, backward  !  backward  !  and  yet  he  hastes  along. 

Arriving  at  headquarters,  he  gains  access  to  an  old  friend, 
one  who  knows  somewhat  of  his  interesting  history — General 

C ;  they  have  a  long  confidential  chat,  after  which,   he  is 

accommodated  w^ith  comfortable  quarters,  and  he  rests  him- 
self and  beast  for  a  few  days  ;  he  then  receives  a  letter  of  in- 
troduction and  recommendation  to  General  Smith,  is  received 
kindly,  after  being  compelled  to  wait  a  day  after  having  pre- 
sented his  letter  of  introduction. 

Another  long  and  earnest  conversation,  and  the  great  Gen- 
eral knew  Harold  Clinton  was  a  volunteer,  and  had  volun- 
teered with  the  understanding  that  he  was  not  to  be  forced 
into  an}'  measures  that  would  compromise  him  or  his  rights  as 
a  British  subject^  and  that  he  had  recently  been  in  the  Yan- 
kee lines.  He  knew  no  more  of  him,  nevertheless  felt  an 
unaccountable  respect  for  the  noble  looking  man  in  gray,  no 
longer  shabby^  for  he  had  replenished  his  wardrobe  as  well  as 
the  poor  productions  of  the  place  would  allow. 

But  Harold  would  not  tarry  too  long.  After  settling  some 
private  business,  placing  "  Sable  "  in  good  hands,  paying  in 
advance  for  his  care,  writing  and  posting  letters,  he  prepared 
again  for  going. 

You  must  remember,  at  this  period,  people  on  the  Western 
.bank  of  the   Mississippi  river  had   but    little  communication 


BLUE  AND  GRAl  :'  51 


with  the  other  part  of  the  world,  no  regular  mail,  no  post- 
office  and,  in  some  parts,  no  mail  at  all. 

He  wrote  letters  to  foreign  lands,  to  CaHfornia  and  other 
places,  and  while  he  writes  in  praise  of  the  South,  and  urging 
the  recognition  of  the  Condederacy,  we  will  leave  him  in 
peace  to  finish  them  at  his  leisure  ;  while  simply  noting  that 
on  the  table  lay  his  *  transfer '  to  a  Louisiana  brigade  and 
permission  to  join  the  scouts. 

The  glad  sound  of  Peace  !  Peace  !  came  floating  along  on 
the  breeze — in  one  huge  billow,  tossing  the  drooping  spirits  to 
a  mammoth  height. 

Another  ray  of  Hope,  peeping  through  the  clouds,  lift- 
ing the  veil  that  covered  the  sad  face  and  discouraged  fea- 
tures of  her  troubled  gaze,  for  a  short  time.  But  alas  I  though 
a  shadow  was  approaching  the  Union  stronghold.  Peace  still 
coquetted  with  hope's  brightest  sunbeams,  while  fierce  Battle 
raged,  more  determined  than  ever  to  subjugate,  while  de- 
vastation and  humiliation,  were  rampant — gorged  with  suc- 
cess, gained  by  unequal  numbers  and  Famine's  fast  increasing 
^peed. 

Such  I  am  bold  to  state  is  my  humble  opinion,  relative  to  the 
principal  hand  that  pulled  to  pieces  the  "  fabric,"  that  so  long 
.and  tenaciously  clung  to  each  and  every  ray  of  hope,  which 
now  sent  forth  so  seldom  its  beams,  to  lighten  the  darkening 
pathways  of  fond  expectations  pictured  dreams. 

But  old  ''Father  Time,"  with  his  never  ceasing  stroke, 
beats  a  reveille  to  the  closing  scenes  and  last  despairing  knell 
of  Secessia,  and  her  heroic,  disheartened,  but  still  undaunted 
braves. 

Yet  a  Httle  while,  and  no  more  war;  yet  a  little  while,  and 
envy,  maHce  and  revenge,  will  be  things  of  the  past — dying  a 
natural  death,  and  buried  in  the  shades  of  oblivion. 

Alas  !  our  judgment  was  at  fault,  for  they  have  scarcely 
slumbered. 

But  if  the  war,  with  its  terrible  relations,  is  coming  to  a 
close  with  its  broken  ranks,  slaughtered  heroes,  and  bursting 
hearts  ;  with  mingled  tear  drops  of  friend  and  foe — uniting  in 
•one  wild  wave  which  overwhelms  all  feelings  of  bitter  ani- 


BLUE  AND  GRAY. 


mosity,  and  waters  the  graves  of  our  poor  boys,  and  the  Fed- 
eral dead  lying  side  by  side,  so  must  our  little  story  lead  the 
way  to  its  own  conclusion.  Therefore  let  us  all  continue  to 
cover  those  green  graves  with  bright  fragrant  flowers  ;  let  the 
South  stretch  forth  and  clasp  the  hands  of  North,  East  and 
West,  and  all  entwine  garlands  to  wreathe  in  chaplets  around 
the  sacred  memory,  and  the  graves  of  the  *'Blue  and 
Gray,"  and  we  will  intrude  upon  their  sacred  repose  na 
more. 

Constant  still  to  fond  memories  that  are  gone,  allaying  if 
we  can  our  poignant  grief,  by  planting  roses  and  removing 
thorns  from  the  pathway  of  others,  who  still  have  griefs  that 
time  cannot  assuage,  and  of  all  the  vast  human  race,  show  by 
example  and  precept  that  we  realize  there  is  a  world — where 
there  is  no  more  tears,  no  more  partings,  no  more  graves,  and 
as  bright  spirits  we  will  twine  garlands  to  strew  upon  and 
around  *'  God's  Holy  Temple," — where  all  is  Joy,  Peace  and 
Love — in  the  everlasting  presence  of  Him  who  reigns  for  ever 
and  ever. 

Peace,  forevermore  ;  let  '*  Blue  and  Gray"  join  hands^ 
and  shout  "  Peace  !  Peace  I  " 


CHAPTKR  X. 


And  there  lay  the  steed  with  his  nostrils  all  wide, 

But  through  it  there  roU'd  not  the  breath  of  his  pride, 
And  the  foam  of  his  gasping  lay  white  on  the  turf, 
,    And  cold  as  the  spray  of  the  rock  beating  surf. 

And  there  lay  the  rider  distorted  and  pale 

With  the  dew  on  his  brow,  and  the  rust  on  his  mail. 

And  the  tents  were  all  silent,  the  banners  alone, 
The  lances  unlifted  the  trumpet  unblown." 


r^' 


IS  many  weeks  since  Jenny  and  Harold  have  met. 

He,  on  his  return,  volunteered  to  join  a  secret  ex- 
peition,  where  skill  and  daring  bravery  were  to  lead. 
Their  plans  succeeded,  and  their  object  was  gained,  but,  in 
consequence  of  some  misrepresentation,  he  was  detained  much 
longer  than  he  had  anticipated. 

Being  now  at  liberty,  he  continued  on  his  way,  rejoicing 
secretly  that  he  had  been  instrumental  in  serving  both  man 
and  beast. 

Humanity  was  his  favorite  study ;  selfishness  a  feature  en- 
tirely unknown  to  his  generous  nature. 

There  was  but  one  thing  his  affectionate  nature  craved — and 
in  a  manner  it  was  found — 


So  was  bright  Venus  in  her  robes  of  gold. — 
Yet  with  his  manly  beauty  and  wealth  untold. 

He  would  not  soil  his  conscience  by  courted  thought  of 
€vil. 

He  would  whisper  of  respect,  honor,  friendship,  but  not  of 
love  ;  not  that;  for  it  was  too  far  in  the  distance — too  tender 
a  thought  to  brood  over.  Thus  he  reasoned,  and  determined 
to  be  strongf. 

Rainy  weather,   and   roads  made  almost  impossible  from 


54  ''BLUE  AND  GRAY 


frequent  travel  of  heavy  wagons,  detained  him  still  on  his 
way,  but  now  he  is  nearing  the  old  camp  ground.  It  is 
deserted,  and  the  aspect  of  the  surrounding  country,  sad  and 
dreary  looking. 

It  is  getting  quite  dark,  but  he  sees  a  small  light  faintly 
glimmering  through  the  gathering  evening  mist ;  it  comes  from 
a  lone  cabin  by  the  roadside  ;  he  remembers  an  old  negro 
who  had  lived  there,  and  w^onders  if  he  is  there  still ;  he  was 
quite  an  old  man,  but  spry  and  healthy,  and  a  rare  exception 
among  his  kind,  for  he  was  a  real  rebel  darkey,  and  would 
beg  from  the  Yankees  to  give  to  the  Rebs  ;  and  Harold  him- 
self had  been  treated  to  some  real  good  coffee  several  times, 
by  the  same  old  Reb. 

He  reins  in  his  horse  beside  the  old  cabin,  and  calls.  The 
old  man  was  there  still,  and  came  to  the  door  with  a  small  old 
lamp,  that  threw  a  flickering  light  around  ;  he  stood  on  the 
door  sill,  and,  looking  up  into  Harold's  face,  he  appeared  to 
recognize  him,  or  at  least,  that  he  w^as  a  Confederate  soldier. 

"  Bress  God,  massa,  whar  hab  you  cum'd  from?  dem 
Yanks  gwine  cotch  you  for  sartin,  for  de  most  ob  de  boys  am 
dun  gone  roun  de  odder  way." 

"  Ah,  Uncle  Dan,  are  the  Yanks  so  near  as  that?" 

"Yes,  sar !  some  of  dem  blue  jackets  cumb'd  up  this 
morning  an  went  a  sarchin  all  de  roun,  but  me  bleeves  fore 
God,  massa,  da  as  all  gwine  back,  for  I  seed  Cap'n  an  one  or 
two  ob  de  men  gwdne  ober  de  fiel  a  leetle  while  ago. 
guesses  how  de  odders  mus  gone  roun,  an  try  to  cut  off  de 
blue  jacks." 

"Well,  I  am  anxious  to  see  the  Captain,  and  may  just  as 
well  as  not  follow  him,  but  are  you  sure  it  was  the  Caftain 
that  went  by  wa}^  of  the  field?  and  3^ou  think  the  Yankees 
have  all  gone  down?" 

"  Sartin,  massa,  bout  de  Cap'n,  an  I'se  putty  sure  dat  de 
Yanks  am  all  dun  gone  back." 

"  How  are  all  the  folks  in  town,  and  over  the  way,  and  how 
are  they  getting  along?  " 

"Poorly!  poorly!  massa,  da  hab  a  mitey  hard  time  of  it; 
de  niggers  dun  mos  all  run  away  now,  and  da  steal  way  in  de 


BLUE  AND  gray: 


night,  de  varmints,  as  ef  de  white  folk  keer'd  ef  da  went — fer 
da  acks  shameful,  talks  mitey  big  bout  der  land  and  tings  da 
gwine  to  hab,  but  for  dis  nig's  part,  I  tinks  a  nigger's  a  nig- 
ger for  all  dat — even  ef  de  Yanks  dun  paint  'm  white." 

"Well,  Uncle  Dan,  plent}^  of  these  darkies  will  repentever 
leaving  their  good  homes  and  kind  friends  ;  but  I  must  ride 
on  ;  I  suppose  you'll  turn  Yankee  by  and  by?  '' 

"  Neber,  massa  !  Neber  !  I'se  a  Reb  nigger  to  de  back- 
bone." 

"Well  I'm  glad  to  hear  it.  Good  night  Uncle  Dan — I'm 
going  to  town  at  any  rate." 

I  said  the  night  was  dark — it  now  grew  intensely  so  ;  and 
the  wind  was  rising  ;  but  he  rode  on  past  familiar  scenes,  past 
the  house  where  he  had  lain  sick,  and  homes  where  most  of 
the  inmates  had  extended  to  him  a  cheerful  welcome. 

Does  he  not  feel  the  chill  on  the  breeze  that  comes  sweep- 
ing from  house  to  house?  Go  back,  Harold  !  an  enemy  more 
subtle  than  the  blue  jackets  is  on  your  path  ;  one,  more  cruel 
than  death,  is  tearing  to  pieces  with  its  ravenous  jaws,  your 
good  name.  Go  back  I  don't  follow  the  footpath  leading  ta 
the  minister' s  door,  for  he  it  is  that  w^ill  turn  the  cold  shoulder 
on  your  approach.  He  bears  the  appellation  of  God's  min-^ 
ister,  3^et  he  serves  Mammon  ;  his  duty  is  to  warn  sinners  and 
point  them  to  the  Savior,  for  sinners  may,  by  the  "Atone- 
ment," receive  full  pardon  from  God,  and  be  restored  to- 
Grace,  and  abide  with  Him  in  His  own  dwelling,  in  the 
"Golden  City ;"  but  Harold  must  not  enter  the  dwelling,  or 
abide  with  this  man,  born  in  the  flesh  ;  although  Christ  shed 
his  blood  to  save  all  alike,  neither  could  this  minister  have 
construed  the  Holy  Scriptures  which  he  preached,  correctly, 
for  had  there  been  the  slightest  pretext  of  censure — is  it  not 
written  : 

"  If  a  man  be  overtaken  in  a  fault,  ye  which  are  spiritual^ 
restore  such  a  one  in  the  spirit  of  meekness,"  etc.;  also: 
"  Behold  I  stand  at  the  door  and  knock,  if  any  man  hear  my 
voice  and  open  the  door  I  will  come  into  him,  and  will  sup 
with  him  and  he  with  me." 

Harold   wishes  to  know  about  Mr.  Bancroft,  more  espe- 


5G  ''  BLUE  A ND  GRA  2 '. ' 


cially  Jenny.  The  minister  seems  the  proper  one  of  whom  to 
inquire.  He  knocks  at  his  door,  and  it  is  opened  by  his  wife, 
who  as  soon  as  she  recognizes  Harold,  turns  up  an  ah-eady 
turned  up  nose,  and  scornfully  turned  away,  showing  how- 
ever, her  plebian  blood  in  every  twist  ol  her  plebian  body. 
She  left  him  standing  outside  ;  and  w^hile  he  is  waiting,  I  w^ill 
fill  in  the  space  by  a  few  remarks.  I  have  frequently  noticed 
how  some  of  the  low  born,  t}"y  to  imitate  the  trade  of  twist 
and  toss,  tack  and  tuck,  of  the  better  pedigree,  but  still  infe- 
rior specimen  of  humanity.  I  can  but  take  notice,  and  it  is 
often  a  subject  of  comment,  that  the  low^erthe  origin  of  a  per- 
son, female  particularly  so,  if  by  any  of  these  tacks  and  tucks 
they  are  raised  to  affluence,  or  are  noticed,  and  become  asso- 
ciates of  the  better  class,  the  more  haughtiness  do  they  strive 
to  assume. 

This  professed  man  of  God — but  serving  Satan — now  came 
forth  from  a  table  steaming  and  smoking  with  a  nice  warm 
supper,  and  with  a  sanctified,  but  low  groveling  look,  said  : 

''  Good  evening  sir  !  Do  you  wdsh  to  see  me  on  any  partic- 
ular business?  "  Harold,  of  course,  felt  somewhat  surprised, 
but  replied  : 

"  You  appear  to  have  forgotten  me,  Mr.  Robb  ;  Harold 
Clinton  at  your  command." 

"  Well  then,  young  man,  I  command  you  to  go  on  your 
way,  and  go  and  do  your  duty  by  that  woman,  and  leave  re- 
spectable people  in  peace,"  and  with  these  last  words,  hang 
w^ent  the  door,  shut  to,  with  a  force  almost  knocking  Harold 
over.  Quite  breathless  in  his  great  agitation  at  the  minister's 
w^ords,  he  knocked  again  at  the  door,  determined  to  demand 
an  explanation  of  those  harsh  undeserving  words  ;  but  he  was 
not  heeded,  and  his  anger  arose  as  he  thought  of  how  little 
cause  a  Southern  man,  especially  a  viiniste?',  had  for  treating 
him  in  so  shameful  a  manner. 

Of  course  his  thoughts  flew  directly  to  Jenny.  What  duty 
did  he  owe  her,  that  he  w^ould  not  willingly  fulfill? 

"  Good  God  !  Did  those  words  imply  any  insult  to  her?  as 
for  himself,  it  mattered  not ;  his  own  pure  conscience  was  of 
sufficient  protection  ;  but  her — what  of  her?" 


BLUE  AND  GRAY 


He  would  follow  the  river  side  where  the  evening  breeze 
might  cool  his  fevered  brow  ;  he  thought  of  the  kind  old  doc- 
tor, he  was  a  friend  of  Jenny's,  he  vvould  go  to  him  and  find 
out  all.  Would  anyone  dare  say  aught  of  Jenny  but  what  was 
pure  and  good? 

"  God  help  me  and  them  if  I  hear  of  it ;  they  would  not 
dare  I  "  he  clenched  his  fists  and  grit  his  teeth — he  forgot 
where  he  was  ;  he  had  forgotten  all  but  her ;  Captain,  Con- 
derates  and  blue  jackets — all  passed  from  his  thoughts. 

His  horse  seemed  to  be  getting  restless  ;  but  so  deeply  en- 
grossed was  he  with  his  thoughts  and  wounded  feelings,  that 
he  failed  to  notice  his  companion's  behavior;  heeded  not 
that  which  foreboded  mischief — that  shadow  on  his  left,  not 
suspecting  the  presence  of  those  skulking  forms  who  now, 
with  a  demoniac  howl,  sprang  out  and  fired  upon  him  without 
notice,  or  even  asking  him  to  surrender.  His  poor  dumb 
friend  was  instantly  killed,  and  they  rushing  at  him  with 
charged  bayonets,  which  were  so  new  he  could  see  them 
gleam  in  the  darkness.  Feeling  his  danger,  knowing  that  his 
life  was  threatened,  and  furious  at  losing  his  horse,  he  drew 
his  revolver  and  fired,  one,  two,  three — and  two  of  them  bite 
the  dust,  their  faces  so  black,  the  dust  but  powdered  their 
hideous  features  to  a  hue  more  resembling  two  or  their  com- 
rades— a  third  being  of  the  same  African  tint. 

Harold  did  not  wish  to  be  taken  prisoner  ;  neither  did  his 
advancing  enemies  seem  desirous  of  taking  him  as  such,  for 
murder  was  in  their  minds,  murder  was  in  their  hearts,  mur- 
der was  in  their  baleful  eyes,  murder  in  the  rapid  strides,  and 
murder  on    the  points  of  their  bayonets  ;     and  "  kill  him  !  " 

■''  kill  the  d d  rebel,"  was  the  cry.       He  had  emptied  his 

revolver — another  with  a  shriek  toppled  over,  calling  on  the 
two  that  were  left  to  come  and  save  him. 

After  firing  his  last  shot  he  darted  away  ;  and  making  a 
curve  in  his  course,  made  all  headway  toward  the  banks  of 
the  flowing  stream. 

One  of  the  two  who  still  followed,  gave  him  a  parting 
salute,  and  lodged  a  ball  in  his  left  breast. 

Harold  thought  he   was  fatally  wounded,   but  he  resolved 


58  'BLUE  AND  GRA7' 


that  he  would  not  be  captured ;  so  sprang  into  the  water, 
dived  out  of  sight,  afterwards  arose  some  Httle  distance  from 
the  shore  ;  he  then  swam  up  the  stream,  notwithstanding  the 
strong  current,  and  again  turned  toward  the  bank,  which 
gaining,  he  attentively  listened,  and  found  his  enemies  had 
returned  to  their  wounded  comrade  ;  so  he  gently  raised  him- 
self out  of  the  water  on  the  root  of  a  staunch  old  live  oak 
which  spread  its  protecting  arms  across  the  stream  ;  feeling^ 
faint  and  sick,  he  crawled  into  a  friendly  hollow  that  seemed 
to  invite  him  to  enter  and  rest,  also  refresh  his  now  fast  sink- 
ing form. 

After  getting  down  on  all  fours  he  crawled  apace,  and  what 
was  his  delight  to  find  it  enlarging,  the  dirt  or  bank  having 
been  washed  away  leaving  an  excavation  of  some  consider- 
able extent.  He  felt  for  his  tinder  box — fortunately  he  found 
it,  and  it  being  waterproof,  he  soon  had  alight,  and  what  was 
his  surprise  to  find  therein  "stores"  or  articles  piled  and 
packed  on  each  other. 

His  surprise  was  so  great  that  for  a  moment  he  forgot  his 
own  condition,  until  an  excrutiating  pain  shot  through  his 
body  like  a  dagger  thrust ;  he  then  examined  his  wound, 
could  feel  the  ball,  and  his  determination  was  to  extract  it 
himself  with  some  pocket  instrument  that  he  usually  carried 
about  his  person. 

He  thoughtof  the  packages — perhaps  there  might  be  some- 
thing he  could  use  to  his  own  advantage  ;  perhaps  a  stimulant 
or  something  that  might  answer  the  purpose.  But  then  he 
would  be  appropriating  what  did  not  belong  to  him  ;  still 
"  possession  was  nine  points  in  law."  Well,  thought  he, 
mine  or  not  mine,  I  am  in  a  critical  condition,  and  my  situa- 
tion in  any  event  will  be  a  reasonable  excuse,  so  I  will  see 
what  the  contents  of  these  packages  are  at  any  rate. 

He  fumbles  among  them,  "  this  feels  hke  a  bottle — brandy 
as  I  live,  so  here  goes,"  and  though  he  was  habitualh'  a 
teetotaller,  he  instantly  broke  the  neck  of  the  bottle  and 
imbibed  a  few  swallows  ;  it  was  very  strong,  yet  seemed  a 
pure  article.  What  he  drank  revived  his  drooping  spirits  and 
fast  failing  strength.      He  gathered  a  few  loose    sticks   that. 


BLUE  AND  GRAiy  5^ 


were  lying  round,  and  kindled  a  little  blaze  :  lie  looked  at  his 
watch  and  found  it  near  midnight.  He  was  getting  faint  and 
sick,  but  thought  it  better  to  remain  quiet  where  he  was  until 
break  of  day,  then  he  would  seek  some  friendly  shelter  and 
have  his  wound  attended  to  ;  but  determined  to  make  his  way 
back  into  the  Confederate  lines.  He  now  thought  of  the  other 
packages,  and  hastily  cutting  the  strings  with  which  they  were 
tied,  opened  them  out,  and  was  both  pleased  and  surprised  at 
their  contents. 

There  was  a  bolt  of  white  cotton,  some  of  this  would  come 
in  play  first  rate  ;  then  there  were  yards  of  calico — several 
patterns;  then  coffee,  tea,  and  oh,  how  fortunate'  candles, 
quinine  and  crackers — real  nice  crackers. 

''Ah,"  said  he,  ''I  can  almost  set  up  house-keeping." 
He  tore  off  a  piece  of  cotton,  saturated  it  with  brandy  and 
bathed  his  wounded  side. 

"  These  articles  must  belong  to  some  blockade  runner," 
thought  he,  "  or  some  friendly  Yankee  has  placed  them 
here  for  the  use  of  some  soldier  or  familv — that  seems  more 
likely  :  in  either  case,  they  can't  be  very  unfriendly,  so  I'll 
try  and  make  m3^self  as  comfortable  as  possible  under  exist- 
ing circumstances." 

He  spread  out  some  of  the  calico  and  rolled  over  on  it, 
covering  himself  with  folds  of  the  cotton,  for  he  was  now  get- 
ting chilled  through  and  through. 

He  placed  other  packages  under  his  head,  and  growing- 
more  faint  thought  he  would  try  to  rest  and  to  think  of  the 
evening's  developments.  And  what  were  those  develop- 
ments. 

False  friends.  x\  Minister  of  God,  shutting  his  door  in  the 
face  of  a  weary  traveler  which  was  just  as  sinful  as  the 
treacherous  enemy  in  ambush,  even  worse,  zvorse;  but  alas  ! 
human  nature  is  prone  to  err,  and  "  Chrisf  s  o-os^elteachcrs^^'^ 
do  not  always  follow  His  precepts  and  example. 


VjS  I  I  1,1  III  H  I  III  IIIII.IJIIJIIIU  I  I  11  I  I  III  I  I  l!|l|il  11  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  III  I  I  III  I  III  I  I, III  I  1,1  J  I  I  I  I  I  I  I  H  I  M  I  I  M  M  I IJ  I  M  «^? 


4 


I  III  I  iiiiiiijiiiiiiiiiiiiiii  iimiiiiiiiiim  1 1  III  1 1 1  lilt  1 1  MX'  nil  iXU  i-Li  i  ij  1 1  nil  1 1 1  iiii  1 1 1 1 1 1 1  tsx, 


CHAPTKR    :KI. 

"  He  who  has  learnt  the  duty  which  he  owes 
To  friend  and  country,  and  to  pardon  foes; 
Who  models  his  department  as  mav  best 
Accord  with  brother,  sire,  or  stranger  guest; 
Who  takes  our  laws  and  worships  as  they  are 
Nor  roars  reform  for  senate,  church  and  bar; 
In  practice  rather  than  loud  precept  wise 
Bids  not  his  tongue  but  heart  philosophise; 
Such  is  the  man  the  poet  should  rehearse 
As  joint  exemplar  of  his  life  and  verse." — Byrou. 

Mt  is  necessary  to  go  back  to  find  out  how  it  came  to  the 
11  knowledge  of  the  enemy  that  Harold  was  approaching, 
^  and  so  post  themselves  in  the  manner  they  did,  all  in 
readiness  to  lire  upon  him. 

While  he  was  standing  in  front  of  old  Uncle  Dan's  domicil 
neglectful  of  the  prudence  the  state  of  surrounding  affairs  de- 
manded, he  had  been  observed  by  a  pair  of  keen  devilish 
eyes — a  young  negro,  with  a  slight  tint  of  the  white  in  his 
veins — mean,  cowardly  and  treacherous  as  some  of  them  are, 
being  more  envious  they  are  more  revengful.  Yet  "  there 
are  exceptions  to  all  rules." 

This  one — one  of  the  objects  of  Radicals  never  ceasing  dis- 
interested attachments — was  a  well-known  secret  friend  of 
theirs  ;  and  was  suspected  of  spying  and  informing  on  the 
movements  of  the  rebel  soldiers,  as  well  as  the  inhabitants  of 
the  neighborhood  ;  but  he  had  never  been  actual^  detected, 
and  so  was  left,  unfortunately,  unmolested. 

He  had  once  before  tried  his  influence  in  getting  Uncle  Dan 
to  quit  his  home  and  leave  off  serving  the  "  Rebs,"  as  he  im- 
pudently called  them  ;  but  the  old  man  bade  him,  *'git  out  of 
that  wid  em  debelment,  and  leab  him  alone;"  he  would 
question  the  old  man,  and  was  a  constant  spy  on  his  actions, 
as  well  as  those  of  the  whites. 


BLUE  AND  GRAY. 


This  evening  he  was  making  his  way  there  to  again  ques- 
tion the  old  darkey  about  the  rebs,  their  direction,  etc.,  but 
just  before  reaching  the  cabin  he  heard  the  tread  of  a  horse, 
and  his  suspicious  nature  led  him  to  slink  back  and  hide  him- 
self from  view,  behind  a  clump  of  tall  weeds  that  were  luxu- 
riating around  the  premises  of  the  old  darky's  home. 

When  Harold  rode  up,  and  while  in  conversation  with  the 
old  man,  '*  Yellow  Charles,"  as  he  was  called,  peeped  out 
slyly  from  behind  his  hiding  post,  and  when  the  old  man  came 
forth  with  the  dull,  flickering  light  in  his  hand,  the  whole  of 
the  person  of  Harold  with  his  horse  was  revealed  to  those 
basilisk  eyes. 

He  caught  a  few  words  of  the  conversation,  then  set  off, 
first  slyly  creeping,  and  after  getting  a  short  distance  away, 
ran  at  the  top  of  his  speed  toward  his  master's  house.  He 
knew  that  a  horse  was  hid  in  what  had  been  used  as  a  dairy, 
but  the  place  was  now  locked  ;  having  no  key  he  broke  the 
lock,  opened  the  door  and  went  inside,  and  in  a  few  moments 
came  out  again  leading  the  animal  by  a  rope,  that  he  had 
brought  with  him,  tied  around  its  neck,  he  jumped  upon  its 
back  and  was  soon  going  at  full  gallop  down  by  the  river 
side. 

He  rode  on  to  where  he  knew  there  had  been  a  picket 
guard  of  the  Federals— he  did  not  find  any  there.  He  still 
rode  on,  and  was  now  galloping  rapidly  toward  the  Federal 
camp  ;  but  meeting  five  men— he  drew  rein— and  told  them 

that  the  famous  Captain was  down  again,  and  was  likely  to 

be  caught,  ''  and,"  said  he,  "  look  out,  for  he  is  well  armed, 
and  can  whip  half  a  dozen  of  critters  like  you  ;  so  you'd  bet- 
ter not  try  to  take  him  prisoner  unless  you  set  a  trap  for 
him." 

They  tried  to  detain  him,  but  he  said,  "  no,  he  would  ride 
on  and  send  them  more  help." 

Onward  he  went,  but  after  getting  some  distance  off,  thus 
he  soliloquized  :  '' You  ain't  going  to  catch  me  being  close  by, 
when  that  are  lion  of  a  reb  gits  to  roaring  and  shooting,  so  Fll 
jist  ride  round  and  take  back  froo  the  woods—  and  see  de  rebs, 
how  da  will  be  down  in  de  mouf  about  dat  dar  fancy  Cap'n." 


62  ' '  BL UE  A ND  GRA  2 ." 

The  five  men  went  on  until  they  found  a  suitable  ambush, 
and  they  then  silenth^  awaited  Harold's  approach  ;  the  cau- 
tion of  Charles  deciding  or  determining  them  to  susprise  him, 
not  caring  if  he  were  killed  or  not ;  and  so  Harold  riding  on 
unsuspicious,  and  not  hearing  a  sound  to  raise  his  suspicion, 
was  taken  unawares,  while  in  deep  and  absorbing  medita- 
tion, forgetful  of  all  surrounding  objects,  forgetful  of  every- 
thing but  the  treatment  he  had  received,  and  his  friends 
whom  he  came  to  seek. 

Morning  came,  and  with  it  the  return  of  the  enemy,  not 
only  those  who  were  left  of  the  previous  evening's  encounter, 
but  others  with  them,  and  among  them  a  friend. 

Young  Manly,  the  Federal  officer  that  had  been  wounded, 
taken  to  the  house  of,  and  cared  for  by  Jenny  and  her 
friends,  and  was  saved  from  the  iire  by  Harold,  had  re- 
covered and  been  exchanged,  and  upon  every  conceivable 
occasion  possible,  made  excuse  to  ride  in  the  direction  of 
Jenny's  home. 

Had  she  bewitched  him  too?  you  ask  ;  oh,  no  !  he  liked  Jen- 
ny and  respected  her  highly,  but  he  was  quite  young,  a  mere 
youth,  and  it  was  a  much  younger,  though  a  less  fair  beauty, 
that  led  his  footsteps,  or  those  of  his  horse,  so  frequently  in 
that  direction. 

But  on  this  occasion  he  is  extremely  uneas}',  for  a  report 
was  brought  in,  that  "  last  night  a  scouting  party  had 
chased  two  or  three  rebels,  who  had  shown  their  gray  jackets 
near  the  picket  lines,  and  that  a  marauding  party  had  surprised 
the  Captain,  who  had  made  his  mark  by  kilHng  two  of  them, 
and  wounding  a  third  ;  had  had  his  horse  killed  under  him, 
and  had  made  his  way  to  the  stream,  and  though  mortally 
wounded  as  they  supposed,  he  would  not  surrender,  but 
sprang  into  the  water  and  was  most  likely  drowned  ;  yet,  pos- 
sibly by  some  chance  had  been  saved,  as  he  was  desperately 
brave  and  would  not  resign  life  without  a  fierce  struggle  ;  if 
living,  he  might  be  somewhere  near  ;  if  dead,  his  body  might 
be  discovered,  and  they  intended  to  search  for  him  ;"  so, 
bright  and  early  they  made  a  start. 

The  gray  jackets  alluded  to  must   have  gone  round  through 


BLUE  AND  gray:'  63 


the  woods,  or  in  some  other  direction  while  our  hero  was  fol- 
lowing his. 

"An  officer;  a  very  fine  looking  man,"  was  the  report- 
Young  Manty  led  the  search,  he  choosing  the  immediate  ad- 
joining premises  and  river  bank,  nearest  to  the  scene  of  last 
night's  encounter. 

He  was  now  a  brevet  Captain,  having  been  promoted  after 
his  return  to  service  ;  and  being  in  command  of  the  party, 
gave  orders  to  search  the  surrounding  country,  woods  and 
fields,  and  places  farther  on,  while  he  would  search  the  place 
indicated  as  the  scene  of  the  tragedy. 

Sleep  on  brave  Harold ;  in  thy  total  unconsciousness  sleep 
on  ;  the  enemy  is  on  your  track  ;  they  pass  almost  over  your 
now  tortured  body  and  almost  bursting  head,  with  wild  fires, 
galloping  through  your  every  vein:  What  is  it  3'ou  say? 
Hush  !  they  will  hear,  and  find  you,  and  laugh  in  scorn  at  the 
pleading  of  that  voice  now  growing  fainter  and  fainter. 

He  hes  cramped  in  that  small  hollow,  and  the  vials  of  life 
are  gradually  oozing,  spiffing  their  crimson  contents  on  the 
ground. 

"  Ride  on,  men  :  ride  on,"  exclaims  a  famiHar  voice,  but 
Harold  heeds  it  not ;  "search  for  the  reb  ;  I'll  find  him  if  he  is 
about  these  diggings." 

They  obey  the  command  ;  while  Manly  at  once  dismounts 
and  commences  the  search  in  [his  immediate  vicinity.  The 
water  had  risen  considerabl}^  in  the  night ;  "  good,"  thouo-ht 
he  ;  "  his  footprints  are  washed  away.  What  makes  me  feel 
so  strange,  I  wonder?  I  cannot  help  but  think  of  Clinton,  *  a 
fine  looking  man,'  they  said." 

"  The  Captain  is  a  fine  looking  fellow,  but  not  to  be  com- 
pared with  Clinton,  and  I'm  sure  it's  not  the  Captain,  for  he 
would  not  have  been  alone,  and  Harold  said  he  would  return. 
Rations  have  been  issued  to  my  good  friends  at  my  request ; 
besides,  I  have  endeavored  to  follow  his  instructions,  and 
have  done  the  best  I  could  with  the  means  he  placed  in  my 
hands,  but  the  old  "  rats  "  watch  me  close." 

Looking  up  and  down  the  bank,  he  observes  something 
that  excites  his  curiosity ;    taking  a  searching  and  sweeping 


CA  ' '  BL  UE  A  ND  GRA  i  :  " 

look  all  around,  he  descries  all  of  his  men  at  a  distance  ;  he 
now  hitches  his  horse  to  an  overhanging  limb,  then  steps  down 
on  the  roots  of  a  tree  to  the  water's  edge,  and  takes  a  peep 
into  the  hollow 

"  Just  as  I  feared,  by  jimminy  !  I  wonder  who  he  is  !  now, 
if  it's  that  terrible  Captain,  I  can  claim  a  reward  ;  as  I  be- 
lieve our  Colonel  said  he'd  see  the  one  well  paid  that  cap- 
tured the  daring  fellow.  Hist !  softly  !  I  think  I  know  that 
voice — well  I'll  make  sure.  Why,  Great  God  I  it's  Clinton,, 
and  dying,  I  believe  !  " 

He,  too,  crawled  in  ;  spoke  softly  to  the  prostrate  man,  bui 
received  no  reply,  for  Harold  was  unconscious  and  talking 
at  random. 

"  Duty  !  duty  !  "  sighed  the  sick  man  ;  '*  who  sa3^s  I  won't 
do  my  duty  !  She  feels  it  now,  I  know  I  Oh  !  Oh  !  I  can't 
stand"^  this  !  My  heart  is  bleeding — bleeding  !  Catch  the 
blood  Jenny,  and  bottle  it  up  ;  ah  !  there  he  is  !  don't  let  min- 
ister Robb  take  it  from  you  !  " 

Thus  his  mind  wandered.  Manly,  young  and  tender-hearted, 
could  hardly  restrain  his  tears.  There  lay  his  friend,  wound- 
ed, unconscious,  and  perhaps  dying  ;  his  life's  blood  slowly 
but  surel}^  leaving  him.  "  I  cannot  stand  this  !  "  he  exclaim- 
ed, "  something  must  be  done  immediately.  I  will  go  up  to 
the  house,  and  tell  her  of  him — women  are  so  much  quicker 
in  comprehending  and  managing,  to  the  best  advantage,  these 
things  ;  and  we  may  find  some  way  to  remove  him  before  the 
return  of  the  boys  from  their  search." 

He  sprang  up  the  bank,  and  almost  in  a  run,  directed  his 
steps  toward  Jenny's  residence,  which  stood  about  a  hundred 
feet  from  the  roadside,  and  but  a  short  distance  from  the 
river ;  he  w^as  very  excited,  and  had  quite  forgotten  that  he 
might  be  observed. 

"  Harold — and  w^ounded  I  Oh,  my  God  !  how  shall  we  get 
him  here?  Oh,  Gracious  Father,  spare  him  !  "  were  Jenn3^'s 
first  exclamations,  and  she  continued:  ''I  must  go  to  him. 
Poor  Harold  !  good  friend  ;  good  friend  !  "  She  would  have 
rushed  away,  thoughtless  of  remarks,  or  the  construction  that 


BLUE  AND  GRArr  65 


might  be  placed  upon  her  actions,  but  Manly  laid  a  detaining 
hand  upon  her  wrist. 

*'You  forget  yourself,  Mrs.  Bancroft,  you  will  expose 
yourself  and  all  of  us  ;  he  has  crawled  into  that  hole  in  the 
bank  of  the  river ;  let  Miss  Maggie  prepare  a  room  ;  send 
httle  Charley  for  your  doctor,  and  ask  him  to  come  immedi- 
ately, and  you  then  follow  me  ;  be  careful,  for  your  last  order 
was  filled,  and  the  things  placed  in  there  as  usual  ;  be  careful 
not  to  attract  the  sHghtest  attention,  or  our  httle  strategy  will 
be  discovered.  Perhaps  he  will  recognize  you,  and  we  may 
get  him  safely  out,  without  the  aid  of  others.'' 

Charley,  a  manly  little  fellow,  was  soon  skipping  on  his 
way  r».fter  good,  kind  old  Doctor  Grumble. 

Maggie,  now  growing  to  be  quite  a  womanly  young  creature, 
was  let  into  the  secret. 

After  giving  all  necessary  directions,  Jenny  fleetly  followed 
Manly,  and  her  surprise  was  truly  great  on  nearing  the  bank, 
to  see  him  wrestling  with  the  tall  form  of  Harold,  who,  it 
seems,  in  his  feverish  dreams  and  perishing  thirst,  had  crawl- 
ed out  for  a  cooling  draught,  and  was  endeavoring  to  make 
his  way  out  into  deep  water. 

She  ran  toward  them,  exclaiming — ''  Oh,  Harold  !  good 
Harold,  you  are  badly  hurt !  Come  ;  come  with  me,  m}-  good 
friend.'' 

Immediately  the  sound  of  her  voice  seemed  to  arrest  his 
attention ;  he  relaxed  in  his  resistance,  turned  and  said, 
*' Who  calls  Harold?  is  it  her  voice?  Is  it  Jenny,  lassie? 
Yes,  I'll  come  ;  but  let  me  go  away  first,  Jenny,  in  the  cool, 
cool  water.  It  was  cold,  very  cold,  last  3xar,  when  I  was 
shot.     Oh  yes,  Jenny,  I'll  do  my  duty !  " 

He  tried  once  more  to  extricate  himself  from  Manly' s  clutch, 
when  Jenny's  voice  again  attracted  him  ;  she  stood  no  longer 
waiting,  not  caring,  that  in  going  to  him  she  would  be  com- 
pelled to  get  her  feet  wet,  and  her  skirts  bedraggled,  but 
waded  to  the  side  of  the  two  men,  and  acrain  appealed  to 
Harold. 

"  I  want  you,  Harold  ;  come  with  me,  I've  such  nice,  cool 
water  at  my  house,  and  your  little  pets,    Charley  and  Lilhe, 
5 


66  ''  BLUE  A ND  GRA T 


will  bring  3'ou  some,  cool  and  dripping  from  the  well.  Come 
Harold,  come  on."  She  caught  his  hand,  and  he  followed 
her  out  of  the  water,  up  the  bank  ;  she  then  let  go  his  hand, 
but  bade  him  "  come  on  ; "  he  followed  her  submissively, 
supported  by  Manly,  his  truly  manly  form  almost  bent  under 
that  of  the  other's  tall,  but  rather  slender,  and  now  staggering 
form.  Jenny  encouraging  them  by  now  and  then  a  rather 
sickly  smile,  and  the  words  : 

*'  We'll  soon  be  there  ;  courage  my  friend  :  come  on  poor 
Harold." 

At  last  the  house  is  reached,  and  yet  no  other  Federal  in 
sight. 

Manly  takes  time  to  disrobe  his  friend  of  his  saturated  and 
soiled  garments,  putting  upon  him  a  clean  but  coarse  suit  of 
underwear,  belonging  to  Mr.  Bancroft,  which,  for  the  time 
being,  answered  the  purpose  very  well. 

He  then  went  out  in  search  of  his  men,  and  discovered  a 
couple  only  a  little  distance  off ;  calling  them  to  him  he  told 
them  the  wounded  man  was  inside  of  the  house,  but  in  a  dy- 
ing condition. 

When  all  of  his  men  had  returned,  he  placed  a  guard  near 
the  house,  and  then  went  back  to  our  hero,  to  await  the 
arrival  of  the  doctor. 

Jenny  had  become  very  much  frightened  while  he  was 
away.  Her  husband  being  in  New  Orleans,  and  having  only 
Maggie  to  watch  beside  the  sick  man's  couch,  and  he  seem- 
ing to  be  getting  worse,  and  as  she  thought,  must  die  before 
the  doctor  came. 

Charley  now  made  his  appearance,  and  said  that  *'  the  doc- 
tor was  not  at  home,  but  would  be  back  soon,  and  all  the 
folks  was  asking  about  Captain  Jack." 


«>/  /////////////  /m 


lid 

le. \ ...N> ....X  .-.\ .  \ ...\ ..^  >v ..J\ .. .\ ...\ ..  ,\ .,.X ..^v „:  N. .,.^v . 


CHAPTER     XII. 


"  He  lived — he  breathed — he  moved — he  felt; 

He  raised  the"  maid  from  where  she  knelt; 
His  trance  was  gone — his  keen  eve  shown 

With  thoughts  that  long  in,  darkness  dwelt. — Byron. 


has  come  at  last!  "The  doctor  is  coming  Jenny, 
coming  at  last,"  said  Maggie,  entering  the  little  room 
where  stood  Manly  and  Jenny,  bathing  and  soothing 
the  delirious  man. 

''  Thank  Heaven  !  I  was  beginning  to  think  he  was  never 
coming,"  said  Manly,  while  Jenn}^  but  clasped  her  hands,  and 
mentally  added  "  Thank  Heaven  !  " 

''Ah,  Manly,  you  here?  but  it's  not  you  this  time,  you  gay 
rogue,  that  require  my  services — who  is  it?  Captain  Jack? 
we  heard  in  town  that  he  was  dangerously  wounded  last  night, 
and  that  his  capture  either  dead  or  alive  was  a  certainty  to- 
day ;  is  it  he  that  you  have  sent  for  in  such  haste?  " 

"No,  doctor;  but  for  a  better  man  than  him,  in  my 
opinion." 

"  Why,  goodness  me  !  if  it  is  not  that  young  Clinton  ;  what 
in  the  dickens  did  he  come  back  here  for?  To  turn  women's 
heads  and  make  mischief?  "  "Well,"  said  he,  commencing 
the  examination,  "  the  poor  fellow  looks  pretty  sick,  and  as 
though  would  never  make  any  more  mischief — ha !  here  is 
the  ball ;  I  can  feel  it,  not  far  from  the  surface  ;  it's  surpris- 
ing too — something  must  have  obstructed  its  path  ;  perhaps 
his  case  is  not  so  bad  after  all." 

"Oh,  doctor!"  exclaimed  Jenny,  almost  unable  to  re- 
strain her  tears,  "  do  something  for  him  quick  !  " 

He  gave  her  a  keen  searching  look,  then  said  :  "  Plenty  of 
towels,  and  some  old  linen,  also  a  bowl  of  tepid  water,  and 
you  might  as  well  put  this  saucy  girl  to  making  lint  right  away 


G8  ''BLUE  AND  GRA7. 


— go  with  your  aunt  girl."  After  they  were  out  of  the  room 
he  turned  to  Manly  and  remarked :  ''  That  woman  is  the  pic- 
ture of  a  ghost ;  but  no  wonder,  poor  soul,  it  seems  as  if  she 
is  fated  for  ill-luck,  and  in  getting  crack-brained  and  crack- 
boned  men  to  worry  the  life  out  of  her  ;  no  disrespect  to  you, 
Manly,  but  you  must  know  the  poor  girl  has  a  time  of  it." 

Jenny  returned  with  the  articles  required,  and  again  left 
the  room. 

The  ball  was  extracted,  the  wound  thoroughly  examined 
and  dressed,  and  a  soothing  potion  administered,  after  which 
the  patient  fell  into  a  quiet  slumber. 

Many  strange  words  passed  the  lips  of  our  hero,  while  he 
lay  wrapt  in  the  scathing  folds  of  a  raging  fever. 

At  one  time  he  sprang  up  in  his  bed,  stood  upright,  with 
his  hands  reaching  upward;  and  when  Jenny,  frightened 
almost  out  of  her  senses,  with  the  assistance  of  the  nurse, 
whom  she  had  to  call,  pulled  him  down,  and  told  him  to  lie 
still,  tears  started  from  his  eyes,  and  he  cried  like  a  child. 

Many  things  he  said  made  Jenny  shiver,  and  cold  chills 
pass  through  her  frame. 

Once  he  said  :  "  Kill  me,  Jenny,  better  to  die,  than  weep  ; 
weep  I  Why  mother  is  that  you  weeping  ?  Never  mind  dar- 
ling mother!  I'll  go  back  when  I'm  dead,  but  Jenny  won't 
let  me  ;  yes,  I've  got  it  mother,  but  it  shot  me  in  the  water — 
in  the  water — water — water." 

And  on  her  placing  to  his  lips,  fresh  cool  water,  he  would 
drink  with  avidity,  then  sigh,  and  often  repeat,  softly,  the 
name  of  mother,  and  sometimes  her  own. 

The  old  doctor  was  an  extremely  kind  hearted  gentleman, 
and  Jenny  had  been  a  favorite,  indeed  a  pet  of  his  from  child- 
hood ;  so,  on  the  day  that  Harold  was  first  taken  to  the  house, 
she  pleaded  with  him  to  return  that  night,  and  watch  the 
patient. 

He  promised  he  would,  and  fulfilled  his  promise,  for  he 
staid  not  only  one,  but  several  nights. 

"  For,"  said  he,  "you  should  not  be  left  alone  in  the  house 
with  that  man,  even  if  he  is  ill.  You  must  know,  Jenny,  my 
child,    that  I  take  a  friendly,   even   fatherly  interest  in  you  ; 


BLUE  AND  gray:'  69 


and  already  the  hell-cats,  the  evil  minded,  old  slanderous  vip- 
ers, have  spoken  of  the  intimacy  that  existed  between  him 
and  your  family ;  and  now  the  catamounts  have  coupled  his 
name  with  that  of  that  low  woman,  who,  I  think,  should  be 
driven  out  of  the  land,  for  I  guarantee  she  is  a  vile  creature, 
and  if  he  was  so  unfortunate  as  to  get  into  the  scrape,  she  is 
the  one  most  to  blame,  for,  when  a  woman  is  full  of  vice,  she 
is  a  fallen  creature  indeed,  and  far  below  the  vilest  man. 

Excuse  me,  Jenny,  that  I  speak  so  plainly;  your  husband 
is  away,  you  are  alone,  and  not  used  to  the  ways  of  the  world, 
nor  know  of  its  snares  and  traps,  nor  of  the  poison  that  lurks 
upon  the  tongue  of  a  few  of  the  most  vituperous  and  evil 
minded  of  the  human  race.  They  are  worse  than  wild  beasts  ; 
be  careful,  Jenny,  you  are  alone  and  unprotected,  and  my  age 
and  long  experience  of  the  world,  allows  me  the  right  and 
privilege  of  expressing  myself  thus  plainly." 

"  Oh,  doctor  !  "  raising  a  most  wretched  looking,  but  tear- 
ful face — "  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it !  "  said  she,  passion- 
ately. ''  Some  enem}^  seeks  to  ruin  him  ;  and  the  very  ones 
who  started  that  foul  report,  are  those  to  whom  the  disgrace 
should  be  attached.  I  have  heard  of  some  very  indecent  be- 
havior at  their  house,  and  I  know  him  too  well ;  he  is  gener- 
ous and  wholly  unsuspicious  in  his  nature ;  he  is  falsely 
slandered,  and  I  am  sure  if  they  had  known  that  he  was  to 
return,  they  would  never  have  dared  to  speak  of  him  as  they 
do.  Oh,  doctor,  don't  be  too  hard  on  him,  you  don't  know^ 
how  good  he  is  !  " 

'*  Jenny  ;  Jenny  !  be  careful  Httle  woman — let  some  one  else 
be  his  champion  ;  not  you,  little  puss  ;  but  good-bye  for  the 
present,  I  will  return  by  dark.  You  had  better  get'old  MilHe 
to  come  down  and  nurse  the  young  fellow  ;  but  you,  of  course 
be  attentive,  and  see  that  my  directions  are  strictly  followed, 
or  I  cannot  answer  for  his  life." 

He  started  off  stamping  and  muttering:  <'  Good,  I  believe 
her  !  generous  too  !  but  many  a  good  man  has  been  ruined  by 
getting  into  bad  company  ;  and  a  wicked  woman — well !  don't 
talk  to  me.  '  Her  feet  take  hold  of  the  bottom  of  hell !'  don't 
talk  to  me  of  the  creatures — and  since  I  think  about  it  I  have 


70  '' BLUE  AND  gray: 


come  to  the  same  conclusion  as  3^ou  Jenny*  well,  well,  the 
brave  fellow  shan't  die  if  m}'  old  knowledge  box,  or  trem- 
bling paws  contain  sufficient  skill  to  knit  together  the  broken 
thread  of  his  almost  spent  life  ;  yes,  he  shall  live  !  get  up  Billy ^ 
I  must  hurry,  so  as  to  return  as  quick  as  possible." 

And  away  he  rode,  still  muttering  and  occasionally  twitting 
his  horse  on  his  lazy  gait  and  slow  progress. 

Ten  days  elapsed  :  Harold  lay  fighting  wdth  the  fell  de- 
stroyer the  fierce  battle  of  life;  it  waged  for  nine  days,  but 
on  the  tenth  was  conquered  and  Harold  came  off  victorious, 
and  the  boon  of  life  was  his  once  more  to  enjoy,  improve  or 
misuse. 

At  last  the  prayers  of  Jenny — w^ho  prayed  ''Lord  spare 
him  to  his  mother,"  were  answered. 

And  the  skilful  and  constant  attention  of  the  kind  old  doc- 
tor was  rewarded,  and  his  patient  pronounced  "  out  of  dan- 
ger." 

He  was  not  naturally  of  a  ver}^  strong  constitution,  but 
careful  habits  and  a  moral  life  had  their  share  in  assisting  his 
recovery. 

Jenny  had  been  very  kind  and  attentive,  withal  very  pru- 
dent, but  in  spite  of  all,  a  feeling  of  pity  would  well  into  one 
of  deep  tenderness,  yet  never  but  once  did  this  feeling  over- 
come her  better  judgment. 

It  was  on  the  evening  or  night  of  the  ninth  day,  the  chil- 
dren had  all  retired,  including  Maggie,  the  old  woman  dozed 
in  a  chair,  but  would  start  up  and  yawm — she  seemed  ver}^ 
tired  and  sleepy  ;  Jenny  told  her  to  go  in  the  next  room  and 
lie  on  a  cot  that  was  there,  prepared  for  the  watchers  to  rest 
upon  :  often  the  doctor,  sometimes  Manly,  or  some  other 
person  had  sat  up  to  watch,  but  to-night  the  doctor  was 
called  away.  Manly  could  not  get  off,  and  no  neighbor  had 
offered  to  take  their  places,  so  the  little  family  were  alone, 
with  the  sick  man  ;  and  only  the  kind  nurse,  an  old  colored 
woman  to  assist  them. 

Jenny  sat  watching  him  alone  ;  she  touched  his  brows  it 
was  moist ;  she  took  one  of  his  hands  and  found  the  palm 
warm  still,  yet  moist ;  she  then  leaned  over  him  to  watch  and 


BLUE  AND  GRAY 


listen  to  his  breathing — it  came  more  regular  than  she  had 
known  it  during  his  sickness  ;  she  still  held  his  hand,  and: 
looking  down  into  his  pale  thin  face,  with  a  devouring  gaze, 
which  turned  into  one  of  infinite  tenderness,  she  bent  nearer 
— he  was  sleeping  so  soundly,  so  sweetly — he,  nor  none  but 
God  would  ever  know.  He  would  forgive  her  ;  the  thought 
in  spite  of  all  would  intrude  itself ;  she  put  it  aside  with  a  fal- 
tering, that  only  gave  encouragement  to  its  re-appearance. 

She  smoothed  back  the  brown  curls  from  his  forehead,  the 
impulse  conquered,  and  she  kissed  him  on  the  brow. 

That  kiss  sent  an  electric  shock  through  his  whole  frame, 
causing  his  eyes  to  open  to  their  fullest  extent. 

That  kiss  w^as  the  spark  that  lit  anew  the  dying  embers  of 
a  fever-stricken  life. 

He  recognizes  Jenny  instantly,  but  a  pleasant  feeling  of 
sweet  repose  and  relief  caused  him  to  as  instantly  close  the 
curtains  that  revealed  the  precious  thoughts  and  secrets  of  his 
soul. 

Jenny  was  excessively  frightened ;  she  felt  as  if  almost 
turned  to  stone,  and  could  not  move,  if  to  have  saved  her 
life. 

Harold  lay  motionless,  as  though  still  unconscious,  and  per- 
haps wished  the  same  repeated  ;  be  was  in  Elysium,  and  he 
did  not  feel  either  the  strength  or  the  inclination  to  aw^ake 
from  his  sweet  dream. 

But  he  was  now  wholly  conscious  ;  that  kiss  sent  the  life 
blood  flowing  back  to  the  heart,  and  though  it  caused  it  to 
beat  pretty  rapid  from  deep  emotion,  he  felt  no  inconvenience  ; 
that  kiss  had  repaid  him  for  all  he  had  suffered  and  w^as  suf- 
fering. 

He  remembered  all — to  his  lying  down  in  the  little  cave  or 
excavation,  and  had  a  distinct  recollection  of  being  carried  to 
the  house. 

Jenny  stood  so  quiet,  and  so  perfectly  motionless  that  he 
began  to  feel  restless — what  was  the  matter  with  her?  he 
again  opened  his  eyes  and  turned,  his  movement  broke  the 
spell,  and  she  w^is  again  free. 

Weakness    overpowered  him,  and   sweet   refreshing  sleep 


BLUE  AND  GRAT: 


could  not  be  resisted,  and  he  slept  until  Lillian  calling  mamma 
again  awoke  him  ;  he  now  lay  awake  a  while  watching  Jenny 
as  she  moved  softly  around,  smoothing  his  pillow,  the  cover- 
Hd,  and  straightening  the  room  ;then,  she  went  away, but  soon 
returned  accompanied  by  the  old  woman,  who  now  seated 
herself  by  the  bedside,  while  Jenny  herself  lay  down  upon 
an  old  sofa  that  was  in  the  room. 

Harold  watched  her  until  she  fell  asleep  ;  then  he  moved 
slightly  and  attracted  the  attention  of  the  old  nurse  ;  he 
motioned  her  to  give  him  a  drink  of  water,  which  she  at  once 
did,  but  looking  ver}^  much  astonished. 

He  whispered:  "don't  wake  the  lady  ;  I  am  better," — 
turned  once  more  on  his  side  and  again  slept. 

Manly  had  been  constant  in  his  attendance,  on  his  friend, 
for  they  had  indeed  formed  a  firm  and  lasting  friendship  for 
each  other,  and  after  communicating  with  the  officer  in 
charge  of  the  nearest  forces,  he  was  allowed  that  privilege, 
beside  the  privilege  of  openly  offering  little  luxuries  that  were 
in  a  manner  contraband  ;  for  the  Confederates  still  occasion- 
ally haunted  the  neighborhood,  a  scouting  party  would  dash 
into  town,  get  a  square  meal,  served  with  pleasant  greetings 
and  willing  hands,  then  off  again  like  the  wind,  never  resting 
and  never  weary. 

Harold  knows  that  he  is  a  prisoner,  but  he  has  been  paroled.^ 
Manly  tells  him  "  that  he  is  commissioned  to  take  him  to  head- 
quarters,"— he  is  still  weak,  looks  thin  and  dejected. 

Manl}'  has  explained  to  Harold  about  the  contents  of  that 
"old  hollow;"  and  they  have  talked  over,  time  and  again, 
their  whole  affairs. 

But  what  is  the  matter  with  Jenny?  ever  since  he  was  able 
to  get  about  she  has  avoided  him  ;  and  he  never  gets  a  chance 
to  speak  with  her  alone  ;  what  is  the  trouble? 

Maggie  had  never  entered  his  room  after  his  convalescence, 
and  he  seldom  met  her  at  all,  and  she  appeared  always  shy 
and  diffident  with  him,  now  ;  so  diffident  from  her  behavior 
before  that  terrible  fire;  "she  seems  to  like  Manly,"  he 
mentally  observed,  "  those  two  young  hearts  may  grow  to 
love  each  other." 


''BLUE  AND  GRA T. ' 


Some  of  the  ladies  around  had  been  very  kind  ;  yet  he  feels 
there  is  a  coolness  in  the  atmosphere  for  which  he  cannot  ac- 
count ;  all  of  them  must  have  known  of  his  sad  condition,  yet 
but  few,  and  those  of  the  elder  ones,  have  been  in  to  visit 
him  ;  he  remembers  how  kind  both  old  and  young  were  to 
Manly,  who  was  a  ''  Federal,"  and  think  it  strange  that  he 
as  "one  of  the  bo3^s,"  should  be  so  little  noticed. 

He  has  been  told  by  Jenny,  of  the  doctor's  kindness,  and 
that  in  him  he  would  find  a  true  friend. 

She  also  told  him  how  she  came  to  have  the  place  on  which 
she  was  now  living.  The  family  that  had  lived  there  had 
gone  North  ;  and  had  given  her  the  use  of  it  for  a  year,  to 
protect  it ;  it  was  a  nice  little  home,  with  a  small  garden  and 
field  attached,  which  she  had  intended  to  have  cultivated. 

Her  husband  had  gone  to  the  city  of  New  Orleans,  as  soon 
as  he  was  able  to  get  about,  and  had  not  returned,  neither  did 
she  know  when  to  expect  him. 

And  now  the  day  has  come  when  Manly  is  to  conduct 
Harold  to  the  presence  of  the  Federal  officers,  at  head- 
quarters. Their  feelings  are  favorable  toward  him,  on  account 
of  his  kindness  and  generosity  toward  Manly,  also  his  deeds 
of  chivalry,  reported  to  them  by  his  friend,  beside  a  portion 
of  his  history  that  he  was,  in  a  manner,  betrayed  in  giving. 

We  will  leave  the  two — Federal  and  Confederate,  both 
3"0ung — ''The  Blue  and  the  Gray;"  both  brave  and  high 
minded,  and  both  of  the  pure  type  of  gentlemen. 

Ride  on  gentlemen,  your  society  is  very  agreeable,  but  we 
will  drop  to  the  rear  and  report  afterward. 


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CHAPTER    XIII. 

Dark  and  gloomy  was  the  view, 

Of  shadows  cast  before; 
Blighting  winds,  and  troubles  new, 

To  hearts  already  sore. 

lAN|.we  frail  mortals  change  the  face  of  the  inevitable? 

E  Can  we  with  our  feeble  might  cast  aside  that  invisible 
hand  that  shapes  our  course ;  that  blights  or  brightens 
our  paths;  that  records  indelibly  upon  the  pages  of  time  our 
past,  present  and  future? 

It  is  an  old  saying,  *' where  ignorance  is  bliss,  'tis  folly  to 
be  wise,"  but  we  doubt  it,  except  in  extreme  cases  ;  then,  it 
may  be  applicable ;  for  there  are  circumstances  which  will 
happen  in  the  future,  were  we  cognizant  of ,  might  serve  to  cast 
a  gloom  athwart  those  little  specks  of  sunlight  that  coquet 
with  the  fleeting  shadows,  along  the  horizon  of  our  present. 

And  had  we  known  or  been  aware  of  the  falHng  thunder 
bolt  that  shattered  many  a  dream  and  bright  hallucination,  we 
might  have  cowered  and  given  up,  while  despair  would  have 
been  our  only  portion. 

Again,  if  we  were  fully  conscious  of  the  thoughts  and  opin- 
ions of  others  concerning  ourselves,  of  the  si}"  hints,  inuendos, 
sarcasms,  and  often  slanderous  words  that  are  used,  and 
hurled  against  our  backs ;  could  we  cooly  tread  along  without 
sometimes  a  falter  in  our  step,  or  a  ruffle  on  our  brow? 

True,  consciousness  of  rectitude  of  purpose  and  actions, 
has  its  influence  in  balancing  our  feelings  as  to  the  opinion  of 
others;  yet  even  then,  we  would  not  pass  on  without  a  smile 
of  scorn,  and  a  feeling  of  wounded  pride,  if  not  anger. 

And  thus  it  was  with  Harold ;  he  moved  along  the  path  that 
had  been  laid  out  before  him,  while  the  mahcious  missiles 
were  cast  at  his  retreating  form. 

He  was  of  a  proud  nature,  and  forbore  to  question  what 


BLUE  AND  GRA7:'  75 


seemed  to  him  strange  and  uncalled  for;   thereby  losing  the 
opportunity  to  correct,  deny  and  defy. 

Wrapping  himself  in  a  mantle  of  pride  and  self-control,  he 
turned  from  Jenny  and  her  door,  sorely  wounded  in  feeling, 
but  with  a  proud  step,  yet  expressions  of  deep  gratitude  and 
heartfelt  wishes. 

They  parted,  and  the  parting  was  cool — both  thinking  it 
final.  Little  did  they  think  or  dream  that  they  were  to  meet 
again,  or  that  their  separation  was  for  so  short  a  time. 

Already  the  Confederate  Generals  across  the  river  were  sur- 
rendering; and  though  there  were  still  a  few  infatuated,  be- 
lieving and  contending  ''that  France,  and  perhaps  England, 
would  yet  recognize  us,  if  we  fought  it  out  on  this  side,"  r^one 
of  the  truly  wise  or  far-seeing  could  but  feel,  however  they 
might  deplore,  that  the  last  hope  had  fled,  and  the  Confeder- 
acy was  no  more. 

Our  hero  still  wore  the  shabby  gra}^;  his  new  suit  having 
been  both  soiled  and  torn  after  he  was  shot,  had  been  mended 
and  washed;  but  it  looked  new  no  more. 

He  was  taken  to  New  Orleans,  and  after  getting  there, 
through  the  influence  of  Manly' s  comma,nding  officer,  was 
paroled  to  the  limits  of  the  city. 

He  soon  grew  better  in  health,  and  gradually  became  lively; 
casting  aside  despondency,  he  thought  of  pleasant  scenes  and 
very  dearly  remembered  faces. 

He  is  boarding  on  St.  Charles;  has  a  very  comfortable, 
well  furnished  room,  and  a§  we  meet  up  with  him  again,  find 
him  once  more  busily  writing  and  addressing  letters. 

To  whom  should  he  write  ?  that  poor  soldier  in  the  shabby 
gray;  has  he  friends  other  than  those  he  has  just  left?  Aye, 
that  he  has— a  fond  mother,  and  in  ''  old  Merrie  England," 
too;  yes,  in  the  ''tight  little  island,"  with  its  rock-bound 
coast,  are  those  that  are  anxiously  waiting  for  him.  But  let 
us  steal  upon  him  and  discover  his  secret. 
Lady  iLleano)'  Clinton^ 

Clinton  Park^ 

Ke7it^  England. 

But  hist !  there  is  some  one  knocking  at  the  door. 


76  ''BLUE  AND  GRAY 


"Come  in,"  said  Harold;  a  fumbling  at  the  door,  and 
turning  of  the  knob  was  still  the  only  sign  of  the  would-be 
intruder;  and  getting  impatient,  he  arose,  went  to  the  door 
and  opened  it  himself;  and  the  tottering  form  of  Mr.  Bancroft 
almost  fell  into  his  arms. 

"  How  do  Clinton?  I've  been  out  searching  for  3^ou  these — 
ah,  oh,  ah — five  or  six  days — and  I've  found  3'ou  out  old  fel — 
Shan't  oh,  ah,  let  you  slip  away  from  me  again  in  a  hurry." 

"  Come  in,  Mr.  Bancroft,  and  take  a  seat,"  and  with  no 
gentle  hand  pulled  his  visitor  in,  slamming  the  door  behind 
them ;  for  along  the  corridor  were  continually  passing  and  re 
passing,  some  of  his  fellow  boarders ;  some  of  them  handsome 
well  dressed  ladies,  who  hitherto  had  treated  him  with  respect 
and  especial  politeness,  notwithstanding  his  exceedingly  rusty 
suit. 

In  fact  the  gray  suit  was  an  honored  badge — the  poor  rebel 
soldier,  one  to  be  pitied  and  on  whom  ever\'  little  attention 
that  lady-like  refinement  and  true  politeness  could  bestow. 

(<  Hie — hie — I  am  wanting  to  get  back  to  the  old  woman, 
Clinton  ;   don't  you!  " 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Sir?  " 

"  Oh  nothing,  boy  !  only  Manly  told  me  (hie)  he  is — oh — 
hie — hang  the  hie — hiccough — Manly  said  you  were  badly 
wounded — hie — and  he  took — hie — you  to  my  house — hie — 
and  old  man  Grumble — hie — and  my  wife  saved  your— hie — 
life,  he  was — hie — not  gassing  was  he?  " 

"No,  Mr.  Bancroft,  he  told  you  the  truth.  I  am  under 
many  obligations  to  Mrs.  Bancroft.  I  was  taken  to  your 
house  while  unconscious  ;  and  she  and  the  doctor  were  very 
kind  and  attentive,  and  were  instrumental  in  saving  my  life  ; 
and  I  shall  ever  feel  grateful  to  both.  If  I  had  been  in  my 
right  senses,  I  don't  think  I  should  have  given  your  wife  so 
much  trouble  ;  or,  in  other  words,  would  not  have  troubled 
her  at  all.  I  repeat,  I  shall  ever  feel  grateful,  and  be  under 
many  and  lasting  obligations  ;  but  my  duty  demands  my 
presence  elsewhere,  and  as  soon  as  all  is  satisfactorily  settled, 
I  shall  leave  Louisiana,  and  perhaps  the  United  States." 

He  spoke  sadly,  even  sorrowfully  ;  and  though  Mr.  Ban- 


BLUE  AND  GRAYV  77 


croft  was  intoxicated,  he  had  sufficient  feehng  left  in  his  al- 
most benumbed  heart,  to  feel  a  sense  of  pity  for  the  noble 
man,  that  had  already  been  the  means  of  serving  him  in  many 
ways. 

"Well,  Clinton,  while  things  are  getting  straightened  up 
once  more  into  ship-shape — hie — goodness,  how — hie — in 
thunder  my  head  aches  ;  you — hie — must  go  home  with  me." 

"  Impossible,  Mr.  Bancroft  I  " 

"  But  you  must,  I  say  !  I  w^on't  take  no  I  I  never  did  take 
no  I  and  won't  now.  I  shall  go  out  on  Saturday,  and  you  must 
go — hie — hie.  I  suppose  those  little  picaninnies  of  mine  are 
not — hie — starving,  or  were  not  when  you  left?  Somehow, 
Manly  has  taken  a  great  interest  in  my  family." 

He  drew  his  chair  near  the  bed,  and  leaned  his  head  on  it, 
but  continued  wath  an  occasional  "  hie  !  hie  I  " 

"  He  kept  Jenny  supplied  with  articles  arid  provisions  that 
I  could  never  spare  the  money  to  buy,  and  said  a  friend  was 
assisting  him,  and  that,  that  friend  was  in  our  debt ;  I  thought 
it  some  one  w^ho  had  taken  property  from  us,  so  I  never 
troubled  my  head  about  it." 

Harold  slightly  colored,  then  paled,  but  made  no  reply. 

'•Come,  Clinton,  let's  go  dow^n  to  the  St.  Charles — I  want 
to  see  some  fellows  that  are  staying  there." 

"  Not  this  morning,  Mr.  Bancroft,  but  give  me  your 
address,  and  I  wall  call  to-morrow. 

"All  right  oldfel,  but  don't  forget  me,  nor  to  see  about 
that  -pass^  any  w^ay  ;  in  a  few  days  you  will  be  your  ow^n  man 
again,  and  can  then  do  as  you  please  ;  but  remember  I  want 
you  to  go  up  on  Saturday." 

He  went  staggering  dow^n  the  stairs  ;  a  feeling  of  loathing 
and  contempt  filled  the  heart  of  Harold. 

He  was  gone.  Oh,  the  relief  of  being  rid  of  his  presence  ! 
Harold  paced  backw^ard  and  forward,  up  and  down  the  con- 
fined limits  of  his  room  ;  his  brow  knitted  with  frow^ns,  and 
his  hands  clenched  behind  him. 

And  he  can  go  back  to  her,  the  drunken  sot  I  w^hile  I  shall, 
never  more.  Yes,  I  too,  will  go  back  I  no  ;  no  I  it  would  never 


BLUE  AND  GRAT 


do."  The  sound  of  the  dinner  bell  startles  him,  and  arrests 
his  steps. 

*'  No  more  pining  and  whining.  I  am  no  love-sick  maiden 
or  pulino-  youth,  but  a  man  with  a  will ;  what  child's  pla}-  for 
me  to  be  continually  harping  upon  wanting  to  go  back.  True, 
I  do  want  to  go  back,  but  back  home,  and  I  will  too — for 
"  home,  sweet  home,  there's  no  place  like  home  ;  "  but  I'll 
go  down  now,  and  after  dinner  will  have  a  chat  with  sprightly 
Mrs.  Younger,  and  insist  on  the  young  ladies  reviving  my 
drooping  spirits  with  some  of  their  rattle  bang-hang  me,  spell- 
bound, ethereal  music.  I  believe  I'll  give  them  a  specimen 
of  my  witchcraft  in  making  the  old  ivorys  speak  out ;  by  the 
way," I  wonder  they  do  not  get  a  good  instrument  in  the  place 
of  that  old  rattle-trap  :  surely  they  can  afford  it." 

Standing  before  the  looking-glass  and  commencing  fixing 
himself  preparatory  to  going  down — brushing  his  hair,  etc.,  he 
thus  communed  ; 

"  Well,  I'have  seen  better  looking  men  in  my  time  young 
fellow,  still,  mother  thinks  her  youngest  son  not  so  bad  look- 
ino-,  and  I  expect  she  is  as  good  a  iudge  of  beauty  as  the  ma- 
jority of  mothers  usually  are  when  their  own  children  are 
brought  on  the  carpet,  but  dont  I  look  shabby  though  !  yes, 
I  witl  and  must  say  shabby,  for  although  not  exactly 
"tattered  and  torn"  shabby  suits  me  best;  so,  shabby 
it  must  be.  Poor  mother!  you  would  scarcely  recog- 
nize your  Harold  in  this  old  toggery.  I  don't  know  what 
possesses  me,  but  I  hate  to  give  up  the  old  suit.  Well,  moth- 
er, your  rambler  will  be  with  you  soon  ;  I  have  it  yet  mother  : 
and  I  believe  it  saved  my  life — ah,  well!  let's  not  think  of 
that  now." 

Brushing  his  clothes  he  still  continues:  "  Poor  old  clothes, 
we  hang  on  to  each  other,  until — until — well,  we'll  see.'* 

In  the  early  morning,  just  at  daybreak  there  w^as  again  a 
knocking  on  the  outside  of  his  door;  the  forepart  of  the  night 
he  had  been  restless,  his  dreams  had  been  troubled,  so  that 
toward  morning  his  sleep  was  sound  but  the  knocking  at  last 
aroused  him.  "  Who's  there,  and  what's  the  matter?"  he  in- 
quired.    "  You  are  wanted,  sir,"  answered  a  voice  from  with- 


''BLUE  A  XD  GRA  2  V  79 

out.  *'\Vait  a  moment,"  replied  Harold.  Hfi  arose  quickly 
and  on  opening  the  door,  a  bright  looking  colored  boy  handed 
him  a  note. 

It  was  yet  too  dark  to  decipher  writing,  so  he  immediateh" 
lit  the  gas — and  opened  a  dirty  cnimpled  piece  of  paper  which 
read  thus : 

^'Sir: 

The  gentleman  whose  name  is  Bancroft  and  who  is  board- 
ing here,  was  taken  sick  in  the  night;  he  spoke  of  you  f re- 
quenth'  during  the  night.  Will  you  please  come  to  him  as 
quick  as  possible,  for  he  is  getting  terrible,  and  keeps  a  call- 
ing you  all  the  time.     Please  hurry  for  he  is  mightv  sick. 

Arabella  Scroggs. 

Harold,  telling  the  boy  to  wait  a  few  minutes,  hurriedlv 
dressed — then  telling  the  boy  to  go  on  and  he  would  follow 
him.  Up  St.  Charles  and  down  Julia  street  until  he  stopped 
in  front  of  a  narrow,  brown,  ding}^  looking  house  :  rapping  at 
the  door,  a  tall,couise  looking  woman,  dressed  in  a  yellow 
dingy  gown,  appeared.  He  enquired  for  Mrs.  Scroggs.  ''  I 
am  here,"  she  said.  "I  received  a  note  from  you  concern- 
ing Mr.  Bancroft."  "Oh,  yes,"  she  replied,  *' please  walk 
in."  He  was  shown  into  a  small  dingy  hall,  covered  with  a 
dusty,  dingy,  worn  and  torn  carpet ;  up  a  flight  of  stairs  into 
another  more  serenelv  dincry  still :  then  into  a  dino-v  back- 
room  where  lay  upon  a  dmgy  looking  bed  (for  dingy  seemed 
to  express  every  object  in  the  room)  the  sick  man,  looking 
woe-begone,  and  even  ding}^  in  color. 

Mr.  Bancroft  was  again  very  ill,  without  the  comforts  of 
home  and  ministering  hands  of  a  wife  and  other  friends,  in 
Mrs.  Scroggs"  dingy  looking  boarding  house  :  he  was  deli- 
rious and  did  not  recognize  Harold,  yet  called  his  name,  and 
his  presence  seemed  to  quell  or  quiet  the  sick  man's  ravings 
to  some  extent. 

Our  hero  was  too  noble  and  generous  to  allow  the  man  to 
lie  there  and  suffer  without  makinof-  some  arranofement  for  his 
comfort,  and  obtaining  the  best  of  medical  attendance  and  at- 
tention.      He   at  once  summoned   one  of  the   most  popular 


80  '' BLUE  AND  GRAY 


and  best  physicians  of  the  cit}',  and  he  in  turn  held  consulta- 
tion with  others  scarcely  i;iferior. 

Time  wore  on,  and  Harold  was  getting  very  impatient,  for 
he  was  not  wholly  perfect,  and  now  complained  bitterly  that 
he  was  left  the  sole  charge  of  a  man  in  whom  he  had  no  in- 
terest, and  an  almost  entire  stranger,  and  one  whom,  try  as 
he  might,  he  loathed — yet  in  all  of  his  loathsomeness  he  en- 
vied not  a  little.  He  had  \vritten  to  Jenny,  teUing  her  that 
her  husband  was  very  lows  and  that  her  place  was  by  his 
bedside,  but  "  Jenn}^  was  not  well,  and  could  not  go — "  so 
wrote  jNIaggie  in  reply. 

He  wrote  also  to  a  sister  of  Mr.  Bancroft  w^ho  lived  in  a 
neighboring  towm  ;  she  could  not  leave  home. 

The  physicians  advised  Harold  to  have  him  rem^oved  to 
some  hospital,  or  to  send  or  remove  him  to  his  home.  They 
held  several  consultations  and  expressed  their  opinions  about 
the  case  to  Harold. 

He  could  not  leave  the  sick  man — his  love  of  humanity 
cried  out  against  the  act.  Duty  said  take  the  sick  man  to  the 
bosom  of  his  family,  so  that  he  may  die  with  those  that  are 
bound  to  him  by  the  ties  of  nature. 

A  still  small  voice  wispered  no  !  no  I  better  not  return — go 
on  your  way — cast  temptation  from  3'our  w^ay;  again  duty 
would  break  in,  and  at  last  conquered. 

Manly  visited  the  sick  man  several  times,  and  used  his  in- 
fluence for  the  good  of  both. 

Alas  !  for  the  sequel  of  Mr.  Bancroft's  visit  to  Harold  ! 
Alas  !  alas  !  that  he  is  destined  to  return  to  Jenn^^'s   side. 

Alas  !  before  they  leave  the  city  to  again  breathe  the  pure 
refreshing  air  of  the  country,  two  mournful  death  knells, 
sound  far  and  near. 

Alas  I  the  Confederacy  has  fallen  !  Secession  is  dead  !  a 
mournful  dirge  sweeps  from  the  old  mother  State,  dow'n 
through  the  Atlantic  States,  and  meeting  wdth  that  from  both 
banks  of  the  ]Mississippi,  it  swells  into  one  wild  w^ail,  as  it  is 
carried  around  the  Gulf,  reverberating  through  every  Southern 
heart,  and  burying  itself  in  the  mighty  Pacific . 

Alas  !  a  few  days  more  and  another  wail  is  borne  upon  the 


BLUE  AND  GRAY 


81 


the  breeze — flashes  along  the  wire — through  every  State,  and 
thousands  of  hearts  ;  and  the  poor  down-trodden  South  is 
accused  of  tlie  foul  deed. 

"  President  Lincoln  is  dead !  Lincoln  is  killed  !  these 
words — this  sad  news  struck  the  South  with  sorrow  ;  and  it 
was  not  a  joyful  sound  to  its  already  lacerated  heart — for 
*  many,  yes,  many  believed  that  Lincoln  would  have  proved  a 
real  friend  ;  and  we  can  say  with  truth,  that  nuinbers  who 
we  heard  speak  of  the  sad  affair,  expressed  heartfelt  sorrow, 
and  regretted  the  foul  deed,  and  there  is  not  a  living  soul 
could  make  us  believe  that  the  crime  was  committed  through. 
Southern  animosity. 

Alas  !  a  sad  week's  history — Alas!  alas!  alas! 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

There  were  sorely  tempted — but  not  weak 

Enough  to  fall  in  sinful  path; 
The  V  loudly  hear  their  conscience  speak, 

"Beware  of  Virtue's  deepest  wrath! 
Step  e'en  so  lightly  from  the  bound, 

That  e'er  surrounds  her  sweet  pure  fame; 
She  resents  at  once  with  deepest  wound. 

And  leaves  a  blot  upon  your  name." 

^ND  now  kind  and  indulgent  reader,  the  war  with  its 
I  horrors  has  closed — so  must  our  littte  story  wind  round 
and  through  its  crooked  course,  and  finally  reach  its 
end. 

We  know  of  many,  very  many,  incidents  of  the  late  war, 
which,  if  written,  would  make  a  large  volume  ;  but  as  this  lit- 
tle story  is  only  connected  with  the  lives  and  incidents  relating 
to  certain  and  particular  personages,  we  can  only  write  a 
short  work,  hoping  that  each  and  every  one  that  peruses  these 
pages  will  find  some  thought,  or  word  expressed  that  will 
-please. 

And  now  that  we  are  advancing  toward  the  most  partic- 
ular, peculiar,    and  critical  portion  in  the    lives  of  our  hero 

and  heroine,  we  must  begin  to  plead  for  charity — for  "  char- 
ity covereth  a  multitude  of  sins,"  both  of  commission  and 
omission. 

Mr.  Bancroft  and  Harold  have  returned,  and  both  are  in 
the  little  brown  cottage,  and  Jenny  has  kept  her  word,  for  we 
see  beyond  in  the  little  field,  row  after  row  of  shoots  of  young 
green  corn,  while  her  garden  yields  an  abundance  of  fresh 
spring  vegetables. 

Mr.  Bancroft  appeared  better  with  the  prospect  of  getting 
liome,  but  he  is  now  again  bed-ridden,  and  gradually  passing 
away  to  ''  that  bourne  from  whence  no  traveller  returns,"  yet 


BLUE  AND  gray:'  83 


he  otten  speaks  ot  recovery,  while  Jenny  speaks  confidently 
to  Harold  of  their  plans  for  the  future,  when  herhusband  has 
recovered  ;  and  they  will  have  once  more  their  own  home,  on 
their  own  plantation. 

Often,  too  often  are  they  alone,  yet  they  are  studiously 
polite  toward  each  other.  Jenny  avoiding  him  as  much  as 
possible  under  the  circumstances. 

Whatever  that  cloud  foretold,  or  threatened,  that  had  shad- 
owed his  way  on  his  last  visit,  it  now  seemed  passing  away. 

Was  Jenny  his  champion  yet?  Yes.  Was  the  old  doc- 
tor as  staunch  a  friend  as  ever?  Yes.  For  they  both  [knew 
of  the  well  thumbed  bible  found  in  the  breast  pocket  of  his 
coat,  when  he  was  wounded  ;  both  knew  of  a  strange  look- 
ing round  hole,  pierced  with  a  ball  or  bullet;  both  saw  and 
knew  of  the  bloody  stains  upon  its  leaves  ;  but  neither  of 
them  questioned  Harold — for  both  had  their   opinions. 

He  told  but  little  of  his  life,  spoke  but  little  of  himself, 
and,  in  fact,  since  his  return  seemed  reserved  and  often  con- 
strained in  his  manner  ;  he  spoke  daily  of  leaving,  but  Mr. 
Bancroft  pleaded  like  a  spoiled  child  for  his  company  a  little 
longer. 

He  had  been  in  the  family  sometime,  and  Mr.  Bancroft 
would  appeal  to  him  in  every  case  where  Jenny  opposed  him, 
and  he  invariably  took  the  part  of  the  invalid. 

Eight  days  had  elapsed,  still  Mr.  Bancroft  would  not  listen 
to  his  going.  On  this  day  he  seemed  unusually  cross  ;  and  in 
the  presence  of  Harold,  called  his  wife  "  a  fool  "  said  *'she 
was  trying  to  kill  him  so  as  to  get  married  again,"  and  many 
other  harsh  and  cruel  words 

Harold's  blood  fairly  boiled,  but  he  brought  his  self-con- 
trol into  action,  so  said  nothing — only  tried  to  soothe  the  sick 
man. 

On  one  occasion  Jenny  went  away,  leaving  them  alone,  and 
when  some  hours  after,  Harold  being  in  need  of  something 
for  the  use  of  the  sick  man,  looked  for,  but  could  not  find 
her — he  called,  but  received  no  answ^er.  It  had  now  grown 
quite  dark,  and  a  drizzling  rain  had  set  in,  causing  all  around 
to  look  dark  and  gloomy. 


84  ''BL UE  AND  GRA Y. ' ' 

He  could  hear  Maggie  and  the  children  laughin^and  romp- 
ing in  an  adjoining  room  ;  he  repeated  the  call,  siftl  no  reply ; 
he  closed  the  door  softly,  and  was  making  his  way  to  where 
the  children  were  playing ;  ah  !  what  is  that  he  sees?  a  white 
object  crouched  upon  the  ground  under  an  old  oak — that 
bends  its  venerable  head  almost  to  the  ground,  only  a  short 
distance  from  the  house. 

He  approached  softly ;  a  heaving  sob  reached  his  ear ;  he 
laid  his  hand  lightly  upon  her  shoulder  ;  she  had  not  before 
heard  him,  or  was  even  aware  of  his  presence,  but  now  she 
sprang  to  her  feet,  and  stood  facing  him  with  scorn  and  anger 
depicted  on  every  feature.  He  could  not  well  see,  but  felt 
what  her  voice  and  manner  plainly  indicated - 

*' Go  back!"  she  vehemently  exclaimed,  "go  back  I  go 
back  to  your  spoiled  imbecile  ;  let  me  be  !  I  hate,  I  abhor 
the  very  sight  of  you  !  how  dare  you  come  back  here,  any- 
way— and  to  my  home?  Why  didn't  you  let  him  die?  Oh, 
I  wish  I  was  dead  !  I  want  to  die  !  go  back  to  him,  I  say  !  " 

Oh  Jenny,  Jenny  !  take  care  ;  you  have  betrayed  yourself  ; 
men  are  wicked  creatures,  Jenn}^^  so  they  say,  and  Harold  in 
particular.  Do  you  not  know  that  there  are  those  who  will 
not  soil  their  ve7'y  spotless  garments,  not  to  say  their  per- 
sons, by  coming  in  contact  with  such  as  he.  Ah,  Jenny, 
beware  ! ! ! ! 

"Jenny  ;  poor  Jenny  !  You  know  not  what  3^ou  say  !  you 
know  not  what  you  do  !  "  and  to  himself  he  added,  "  nor  the 
temptation  you  place  in  my  way."  He  continued,  aloud, 
"  Come,  Jenny,  come  inside,  you  will  catch  your  death  cold 
and  will  die." 

"Well,  you  won't  care — and — 

"  Care,  Jenn}^ !     Oh  if  you  only  knew." 

"  I  don't  want  to  know  ;  let  me  be  in  peace,  or  I'll  go  and 
drown  myself." 

Harold  caught  her  hands,  held  them  firmly,  and  said  almost 
sternly : 

"Mrs.  Bancroft,  listen  tome;  don't  try  to  pull  awa}^ 
now  listen  :  As  truly  as  I  live,  I  go  to  morrow  ;  never  to 
return,  unless  I  am   recalled   by  you;  your  husband  is  sick^ 


BLUE  AND  GRAY 


he  is  cal/mg- you  at  this  very  moment,  I  am  sure,  in  fact, 
both  of  us.  I  am  going  to  do  my  duty,  Jenny,"  here  he 
abruptly  let  go  her  hands,    turned    on    his  heel,   and  left  her. 

Well  for  them  that  prudence  asserted  her  claims ;  for 
frail  human  nature  was  already  taxed  to  its  utmost  limit,  in 
its  efforts  to  guard  and  shield  its  honor  and  the  fidelity  of 
the  weeping  heart-broken  little  woman,  who  so  sorrowfully 
drove  him  from  her  presence,  in  her  wounded  pride  and 
uncontrollable  anger. 

But  the  reaction — oh,  the  deep  and  piercing  remorse! 
the  haunting  fear !  the  terrible  faintness  of  the  heart  that 
crept  chillingly  o'er  her,  after  his  abrupt  departure,  and 
cool  freezing  manner. 

She  again  cast  herself  upon  the  ground  in  deep  abandon, 
while  the  clouds  in  S3^mpathy,  silently  increased  their  tears, 
which  came  dropping,  dripping,  among  the  leaves,  while  the 
wdnd  sighed  more  heavily,  and  bore  on  its  breath  a  little 
angel  who,  in  passing,  caught  up  those  sobs,  and  bore  them  on 
high,  and  there  tuned  them  upon  his  harp  strings  with  touching 
strains  :  he  played  to  a  pitying  and  loving  God,  who  sent 
back  a  soothing  influence  to  quiet  and  quell  the  overstrung 
nerves,  and  bewildered  brain  of  one  of  his  little  children. 

When  Jenny  returned  to  the  house,  Harold  had  retired  to 
his  room,  and  did  not  make  his  appearance  again  that  evening. 

What  possessed  the  little  fellow;  unless  it  was  the  spirit  of 
mischief  or  rather  disobedience. 

Charley  had  a  little  toy  boat  that  Harold  had  given  him ;  he 
and  Lillie  had  been  playing  with  it  most  of  the  day,  sailing  it 
in  tubs  of  w^ater,  but  now  mischief,  ever  bent  on  creating 
trouble,  whispered  to  them  "  that  the  river  w^as  the  best  place 
to  sail  so  fine  a  craft."  No  sooner  thought  of  than  down  they 
went,  all  blithe  and  gay,  and  it  w^as  Lillie' s  scream  that 
brought  Jenny  flying  to  the  water's  edge,  and  '*  Charley, 
Charley,  mamma  !"  screamed  the  child,  "  dare  !  dare  !  in  ze 
water." 

The  poor  distracted  woman,  wdth  her  long  loose  hair  flying 
in  the  wind,  resembled  a  maniac,  as  with  arms  uplifted,  her 
white  face  turned  toward  the  spot   indicated  by  Lillie,  w^as 


86  '' BLUE  AND  gray: 


about  to  spring  into  the  water,  when  a  pair  of  strong  arms 
drew  her  forcibly  back,  and  raising  her  quick  as  thought 
seated  her  upon  the  bank;  saying: 

*' Darhng,  I  will  save  your  boy,  or  die  in  the  attempt;" 
plunged  head  first  into  the  water,  going  completely  out  of 
sight,  but  in  a  moment  more  came  to  the  surface  with  the  child 
in  his  arms,  and  struggled  or  swam  safe  to  land — for  the  cur- 
rent was  strong  and  it  carried  him  considerably  below  where 
he  entered  the  water. 

Some  minutes  have  elapsed  in  relating  this  exciting  incident, 
which  appeared  an  eternity  to  her,  but  which  transpired  in  a 
few  moments. 

With  a  trembling  hand  and  faltering  step,  he  approached, 
the  mother  who  sat  speechless,  apparently  dead  to  all  around; 
he  laid  his  light  burden  in  her  lap  having  previously  ascertained 
that  life  was  not  extinct,  and  walked  quietly  away  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  house,  leaving  the  crowd  that  had  now  assembled 
to  assist  the  mother  to  fan  the  flame  of  life,  that  had  so  nearly 
been  extinguished  by  the  relentless  and  cruel  waters. 

The  young  life  was  given  back  into  the  mother's  keeping;, 
it  should  be  a  lesson,  for  experience  is  a  hard  taskmaster,  and. 
teaches  us  many  sorrowful  lessons ;  yet  how  many  persons  un- 
heed  the  warnings  given  until,  alas  I  even  experience  fails  to 
teach  those  cold,  dreary,  dead  hearts,  for  they  lie|shrouded 
in  gloom;  and  naught  but  despair  left  to  bury  the  memories, 
of  their  own  willful  neglect  in  an  eternal  past. 


mmILmImm 
..^...^...^  /  /  /  /~W- 

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\W4 


CHAPTKR  XV. 


A  fearful  wreck,  we  now  behold! 

Was  this  a  man,  once  young  and  brave? 
Aye,  till  he  to  the  demon  sold 

Himself  forever,  as  a  slave. 
Alcohol,  was  his  dreadful  fate; 

Ah  I   to  tell;  it  makes  us  sad! 
Remorse  of  conscience,  came  too  late 

For  at  length,  it  drove  him  mad. 


JHE  house  was  filled  with  visitors  most  of  the  day,  fiHng 
in  and  out ;  friendly  interest  the  inducement  to  some, 
while  mere  curiosity  led  many  to  go  and  see,  and  then 
leave  to  criticise,  and  report  to  each  other  their  thoughts  and 
opinions. 

Mr.  Bancroft  scolded  and  fretted,  declared  that  the  already 
punished  child  should  be  chastised  ;  said  Jenny  was  to  blame, 
and  much  more  ;  suffice  it  to  say  that  she  got  into  a  passion 
once  more,  and  was  wicked  enough  to  repeat,  "  that  she 
wished  she  were  dead,"  and  thatHarold  had  let  both  she  and 
her  boy  drown. 

Harold  heard  her.  She  did  not  know  it,  but  little  would 
she  have  cared  at  that  moment. 

The  day  had  passed  gloomily  to  him ;  while  in  the  house 
he  had  kept  his  room  entirely,  since  the  night  previous  ;  he 
happened  to  be  just  entering  the  yard,  when  Lilly's  scream, 
and  Jenny's  flying  figure,  arrested  his  attention. 

He  had  taken  breakfast  with  the  doctor  in  town,  whefe  he 
had  only  gone  to  post  a  letter  to  Manly  (who  yet  remained  in 
New  Orleans),  and  had  refused  dinner  when  called;  so  the 
only  time  that  he  had  been  near  Jenny,  or  had  spoken  to  her 
since  he  left  her  so  abruptly,  were  those  words  so  lovingly. 


88  '^  BLUE  A ND  GJ^A 7'. ' ' 

SO  tenderly,  yet  so  passionately  spoken — "  darling,  I  will  save 
your  boy,"  etc. 

But  'tis  growing  late  ;  the  sun  is  sinking  behind  bright  red 
and  golden  tinted  clouds.  Evening,  with  her  dewy  mantle, 
is  exhaling  her  cooling  fragrance,  and  refreshing  breath 
around,  making  all  cool  and  pleasant,  where  before,  was  hot 
and  sultry. 

And  while  we  take  a  ramble,  enjoying  the  cool  evening 
breeze,  for  it  has  been  a  warm  day  for  Spring,  we  will  pause 
and  take  a  peep,  sly  it  must  be,  into  Harold's  room. 

See!  he  has  been  again  w^riting  ;  for  there  lie  the  materials 
—  pen,  ink  and  paper  :  but  he  does  not  seem  to  be  writing 
now  ;  his  form  is  bent,  his  head  is  bowed  and  rests  upon 
his  folded  arms. 

Is  he  asleep?  a  heavy  sigh  testifies  to  the  contrary.  Is  he 
sick?  w^e  should  presume  not;  behold  his  small  valise  packed 
and  placed  on  a  chair  at  his  side. 

Is  he  weeping?  turn  away  in  scorn,  you  heartless  ones; 
scoff  at  a  man  that  has  a  heart  to  feel,  and  allows  the  tear- 
drop to  fall  to  ease  a  bursting  heart  I 

To-day,  this  very  morning,  the  kind  old  doctor,  in  a  long 
and  confidential  chat,  had  intormed  him,  "  that  his  name  had 
been  mixed  with  a  scandalous  report  which  had  been  circula- 
ted in  the  neighborhood  some  time  previous ;  but  of  late,  very 
little  had  been  said  about  it,  and  man}'  were  convinced  that 
there  was  no  truth  in  the  accusation. 

Ah;  it  was  then  the  British  lion  roared!  It  was  then  that 
the  long  pent  up  fires  of  righteous  indignation  burst  their  bounds . 
"It  is  false  !  false  as  the  foul  promulgator  of  such  slander !  a 
vile  slander !  Concerted  plot  to  shield  the  sins  of  others  at  my 
expense.  I  have  been  generous,  and  now  this  generosity-  is 
the  most  condemning  proof  this  slanderous  clique  can  bring. 

"So  much  for  having  unfortunately,  through  unforeseen 
circumstances,  having  to  associate  with  those  entirely  beneath 
ones-self,  receiving  slight  favors,  and  for  which  I  duly  com- 
pensated by  much  larger  requitals,  and  by  which  they  try  to 
establish  my  identity  in  this  disgraceful  affair.  It  is  false  ! 
why  the  very  idea  of  such  an  assertion  is  an  absurdity  !  but  I 


BLUE  AND  GRAH:'  89 


will  not  lower  myself  in  my  own  esteem  b}^  a  parade  before 
the  public,  but  will  wait  with  patience,  and  a  just  God  will  in 
time  punish  such  wicked  fabricators,  prove  all,  and  estabhsh 
my  innocence. 

"I  might  tell  my  suspicions,  but  that  action  itself  would  lower 
me,  not  onty  in  my  own  esteem,  but  would  also  place  me  on 
an  equahty  with  slanderers." 

The  doctor  taking  Harold  by  the  hand,  said:  I  agree  in 
all  you  say,  but  keep  cool,  CHnton;  don't  take  it  to  heart  so 
much,  and  consider  the  source,  bey: — for  though  3'ou  have 
never  told  us,  I  know  that  you  came  from  just  as  good,  if  not 
better  stock,  than  the  majority  of  these  Louisianian  high- 
flyers." 

We  left  Harold  weeping,  but  the  soft  evening  breeze  stole 
in  gentl}'  and  kissed  his  brow,  and  fanned  his  cheek  ;  he  arose, 
and  almost  whisperingly  said: 

"I  must  go  to-night,  for  my  sun  is  set,  and  all  is  dark; 
dark  !  just  to  think  that  m}^  sweet  and  noble  mother's  favorite 
boy,  whose  lineage  bears  no  stain,  and  even  if  I  am  second 
son,  have  a  good  patrimony.  I  say,  just  to  think  that  I  should 
visit  this  land,  spill  m}^  blood  in  its  cause,  and  for  reward, 
receive  so  cruel  a  stab;  pshaw  I  what  matter?  or  who  cares 
for  the  low  born  trash  anywa}'?  Ah,  minister  Robb,  lean  now 
understand  your  behavior ;  yet  no  true  minister  of  the  Gospel 
would  have  acted  as  you  did  ;  but  thank  God  there  are  some 
human  hearts  left  that  follow  the  example  of  Him  who  died 
to  save  all ;"  here  putting  his  hand  into  his  breast-pocket,  he 
pulled  out  what  had  once  been  a  handsome  pocket-bible,  but 
he  immediately  replaced  it  saying  in  a  mournful  tone — "  Yes, 
Jenny,  it  must  be  farewell  and  to-night^ 

The  tea  bell  rang,  he  left  his  room  and  joined  those  of  the 
family  that  were  at  table,  but  where  was  Jenn}-,  he  thought. 
He  was  reserved  and  moody  ;  talked  little  and  made  no  en- 
quiries, and  on  his  leaving  the  table  met  her  in  the  hall,  com- 
ing from  the  bedside  of  her  husband,  who  had  been  unmerciful 
in  his  accusations,  caHing  her  outrageous  names,  etc.,  so  like  a 
haunted  deer  she  bounded  away  to  seek  refuge  in  some  secret 


90  ''BLUE  AND  GRAl 


hidden  recess,  when  she   nearly  precipitated   herself  against 
Harold,  and  the  words  burst  forth  in  agonizing  tones: 

"  Oh,  why  didn't  3^ou  let  me  and  my  boy  drown?"  and  he 
answered  aloud,  so  that  any  one  might  hear — 

''  So,  that  is  the  thanks  you  give  me,  Mrs.  Bancroft,"  but 
he  silently  reached  out,  and  placed  a  small  piece  of  paper  in 
her  hand,  which  she  clutched  eagerly  and  darted  away. 

He  then  entered  Mr.  Bancroft's  room,  looked  upon  those 
shrunken  features,  and  informed  him  that  he  intended  to  go 
out  that  evening  and  did  not  think  he  would  return  again. 

Mr.  Bancroft  thanked  him  for  his  kind  attention  as  well  as 
he  could  in  his  half  demented  state;  told  him  that  "Jenny 
was  a  good  girl,  but  had  no  heart."  Harold  felt  inclined  to 
pitch  the  man  out  of  the  window,  but  restrained  his  anger, 
and  as  soon  as  Jenny  appeared,  he  arose  to  leave,  she  said — 
**  don't  go,  "  but  he  only  looked  at  her,  bade  the  invaHd  good 
bye,  and  started  to  leave  the  room. 

"Oh  !  Mr.  CHnton,  believe  me,  I  am  not  ungrateful;  please 
don't  go;"  she  extended  her  hand  which  he  instantly  clasped, 
perhaps  a  little  too  tenderly,  for  it  was  evident  the  sick  hus- 
band thought  so — for  as  he  watched  their  movements  he 
smiled  most  hideously,  but  which  she  failed  to  see,  for  as 
Harold  w^ent  out  she  turned  nervously  toward  the  bureau, 
while  her  husband  still  watched  her  moving  here  and  there 
and  to  hide  her  conflicting  feelings,  apparently  busy  in  putting 
things  to  rights,  when  again  in  lifting  a  glass  it  fell  to  the 
floor  and  was  broken  in  many  pieces. 

In  a  moment  Harold  had  stepped  into  his  room — again  left 
it,^  and  went  out,  closing  the  front  door  after  him — or  he 
might  have  heard  the  noise  and  been  alarmed  at  the  sound  of 
the  broken  glass,  and  the  mocking  laugh  of  the  sick  man— as 
Jenny,  horror  stricken,  fell  fainting  to  the  floor. 

But,  oh  !  that  horrible  laugh  !  It  roused  her  from  her  stupor  ; 
and  the  sound  almost  curdled  the  blood  within  her  veins  ;  but 
the  children  all  came  running  in,  and  their  affrighted  faces 
brought  back  the  courage  she  was  fast  losing,  and  she  spoke 
to  them,  telHng  of  the  accident,  and  requesting  their  assist- 
ance in  gathering  up  the  broken  pieces. 


BLUE  AND  gray: 


91 


Mr.  Bancroft  demanded  of  Maggie  his  vial  of  medicine, 
gave  to  himself  a  dose  that  soon  sent  him  into  the  land  of 
slumber,  but  not  for  long,  for  the  demons  would  not  let  him 
rest,  they  were  growing  more  fierce  in  their  demands  of  the 
stewardship  he  was  to  render,  and  at  last  they  asserted  them- 
selves, and  he  was  sane  no  more. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

"  Pit}',"  softens  the  human  heart, 

'*  And  is  akin  to  Love;  " 
And  God  is  Love  Supreme ; 

Thus  <'  Pity  "  is  akin  to  God. 

Pity  is  distilled  from  angels'  tears. 

Caught  up  for  suffering  mortals; 
Its  soothing  balm,  soothes  our  fears; 

And  opens  Heaven's  bright  portals. 

HE  crisis  is  approaching.  You  who  fondly  love,  have 
pity!  ye  who  in  the  future  may  love,  have  pity!  also 
^1  ye  who  have  buried  in  the  cold,  cold  grave,  your  dear- 
est and  warmest  soul's  affection,  have  pity !  and  ye  that  can 
find  no  joys,  only  in  memory  dear,  have  pity !  and  to  those 
who  weep  in  sorrow  at  the  loss  of  some  dear  friend,  have 
pity ! 

And  ye  who  scorn  and  mock  at  the  flower}'  links  of  love, 
and  who  laugh  at  and  ridicule  your  fellow  man,  have 
mercy  ! 

For  Pitv  pleads 
In  sorest  needs, 
And  begs  you  to  have  mercy. 

To  old  and  3'oung,  maid,  wife,  or  widow  ;  to  husband,  son, 
father,  brother,  we  appeal  and  intercede  ;  asking  all  to  turn 
the  mind's  eye  inwardl}',  and  take  a  survey  of  3'our  own 
hearts  ;  review  your  past  by  the  aid  of  your  neighbor's  micros- 
cope ;  peep  into  every  crevice,  and  there  you  will  find  lying 
dormant  forgotten  feehng,  and  you  can  then  trace  every  out- 
line, and  the  secret  cause  of  each  wrinkle  and  furrow  on  3'our 
own  brow. 

Cruel  compassionless  hearts  !  ah  ye  scornful  ones  beware! 
each  of  you  ma}'  yet  need  your  neighbor's  better  memory  to 
point  to  the  skeleton  in  your  own  closets  ;  none  can  read  the 


BLUE  AND  gray:'  93 


future  or  scan  its  pages,  and  cannot  tell  upon  which  one  there 
may  be  already  written  opposite  their  own  infallible  name, 
"Fallen." 

Troubles  may  arise,  misfortunes  may  lead  you  toward  the 
path  where  all  seems  fair  and  bright,  and  where  the  soft 
voiced  violet  is  wooing  you  on  ;  and  yet  there  may  be  a  pre- 
cipice in  advance  ;  or  they  may  lead  you  to  some  sunken 
rock,  hidden  by  a  smooth  flowing  tide,  or  into  an  artful  snare 
or  trap,  so  completely  hid,  that  you  were  unaware  and  totally 
unconscious  of  its  existence,  until  alas  !  like  a  hideous  ser- 
pent it  suddenly  reveals  itself,  unwinds  its  coils,  and  you  are 
entrapped. 

Fallen,  you  are  trampled  by  the  world.  Fallen,  you  are 
scorned  by  your  neighbors.  Fallen,  the  rabble  shout  their 
derisive  scorn,  forgetting  their  own  faihngs,  and  all  blind  to 
the  skeleton  that  hangs  over  their  own  heartstone,  or  within 
their  closets  ;  and  over  which  a  gossamer  veil  hangs,  but  ill 
conceals  its  hideous  presence. 

You  may  be  beaten  upon  the  rocks,  shattered  and  bruised  ; 
you  may  be  woed  by  the  soft-voiced  violets — until  you  are 
precipitated  over  the  precipice  into  the  abyss,  or  dashed  upon 
the  rocks  below;  yet  death  would  be  preferable  to  life,  the 
endless  unknown  world,  viewed  as  a  haven  of  rest  and  peace, 
to  meet  the  face  of  a  just  and  compassionate  God,  rather  than 
that    of  relentless  cold-hearted  man. 

''  God  knows  the  secrets  of  all  hearts,"  their  temptations 
and  their  fierce  struggles  ;  also  the  seductive  influences  and 
soft  alluring  smiles  in  which  the  serpent  lies  concealed. 

The  serpent  tempted  Eve,  she  tempted  Adam,  so  both  fell ; 
and  the  evil  effects  of  ''  The  Fall  "  has  descended  through 
all  the  generations  of  Adam's  race  or  posterity  to  the  present ; 
and  there  are  still  fallen  Eves,  tempting  honorable  men  to 
their  downfall  and  disgrace.  This  assertion  is  verified  daily  ; 
yes,  intelligent  readers  ;  look  at  it  as  we  may,  we  find  that 
when  women  fall,  in  rnost  cases  they  are  willing  victims  ;  and 
such  are  many  cases  within  my  knowledge  ;  so  I  assert,  un- 
hesitatingly assert,  that  they  are  the  soft-voiced  violets,  the 
hidden  rocks  that  often  lure  good  men  to  ruin. 


n  ' '  BL UE  A  ND  GRA  2 '. " 

I  might  go  Still  farther,  and  speak  yet  plainer  ;  but  would 
not  sully  these  pages  with  the  slightest  word  to  cause  a  blush 
of  shame  to  o'erspread  the  purest  of  our  fair  sisters'  bright  in- 
nocent faces,  or,  that  would  invoke  the  spirit  of  condemna- 
tion from  those  of  mature  years. 

*'  God  knows  the  secrets  of  all  hearts."  His  all-searching 
eye  reaches  into  their  deepest  depravity  and  duplicit}^ ;  and 
balances  those  deformities  by  their  opposites  or  contras — 
Purity  and  Innocence. 

With  all,  Jenn}'  June,  with  her  heart-breaking  trials,  and 
sorely  puzzled  brain,  was  yet  in  many  respects  a  mere  child, 
scarcely  twenty-two  years  of  age. 

She  was  a  passionate,  warm-hearted  daughter  of  the  Sunny 
South  ;  yet  we  find  no  guile  within  that  aching  heart,  no  stain 
upon  that  oft  despairing  soul. 

Let  us  go  back,  and  watch  her  with  a  jealous  eye — her  ac- 
tions after  Harold  gave  her  that  scrap  of  paper. 

Do  not  say,  false  woman  !  how  dare  you  blush  ?  as  the 
bright  crimson  stream  darts  through  every  vein  of  her  body, 
settling  in  two  bright  hectic  spots  on  each  cheek,  as  she 
grasps  the  note. 

She  speedily  enters  a  far  off  room  ;  a  dim  light  is  burning ; 
she  bolts  the  door  to  secure  herself  from  intrusion ;  then  falls 
tremblingly  upon  her  knees — and  an  agonizing  appeal  is  borne 
upward,  until  it  lays  at  the  feet  of  her  God. 

He  looks  down  with  an  eye  of  pity — fathoms  every  depth  of 
her  loving  nature — beams  a  heavenly  smile,  that  again  soothes 
every  fibre  of  that  aching  heart  and  convulsed  frame  ;  but 
listen:  — 

'*  Oh,  Heavenly  Father,  have  merc}^  I  Show  pity  Lord! 
Pity  to  your  wayw^ard  wicked  child.  Oh,  give  me  strength  to 
live  ;  but  I  do  want  to  die,  I  am  so  tired — tired.  Father  !  Sweet 
Mother  in  Heaven,  ask  the  dear  Lord  to  let  you  stay  by  me, 
then  I  may  be  stronger: — Oh,  my  angel  mother!  my  sweet, 
pure  Mother  !  help  your  cnild  !"  A  simple  childish  prayer — 
an  orphan's  cry.  What  matter?  Its  very  simplicity  touched 
the  heart  of  Him  to  whom  it  was  addressed — reached  the  ears 
of  that  Father  who  hath  said:  — 


BLUE  AND  GRATy  95 


''  Come  unto  me  all  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden  and  I 
will  give  you  rest,"'  and,  "  unless  ye  become  as  little  children, 
ye  shall  in  no  wise  enter  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven." 

There  are  holy  angels  around  her,  while  she  reads  ;  reads, 
while  still  on  bended  knees. 

Only  a  few^  words  in  the  ntoe,  a  few  pleadings  and  an  only 
request-^one  last  favor ;  can  she  resist?  The  crisis  has  come  ! 
watch,  for  the  time  draws  nigh  I 

She  reads — then  places  both  hands  convulsively  to  her 
heart — while  her  head  droops  upon  the  bed,  and  she  remains 
for  a  few  moments  as  if  perfectly  unconscious. 

Watch  with  the  angels  as  she  reads  a  second  time.  No 
date — no  address — no  signature,  only  a  few  lines,  nothing 
more.     Read  while  the  angels  read. 

'*  Forgive  me,  but  I  must  ask  one  last  favor,  or,  if  you  dis- 
pute that  right — demand  it  in  return  for  the  life  of  your  child. 
I  leave  in  the  morning  positively.  Know  then,  that  there  will 
be  one  lone  watcher  down  among  the  arbor  vines,  waiting  to 
^2.y  farezvell;  alone,  it  must  be  ;  with  only  God  to  witness  our 
parting.  Remember  I  I  shall  be  there,  even  till  the  morn, 
waiting  ;  then — farewell  for eve7'. 

No  name,  no  address,  no  signature. 

She  kissed  the  note  passionately,  then  quickly  hid  her  face, 
as  if  afraid  that  the  inanimate  objects  around  might  read  what 
was  so  plainl}'  depicted  thereon. 

The  crisis  has  come,  watch  it  to  the  end. 

We  have  already  related  what  happened  on  her  return  to 
her  husband's  room  ;  but  at  last  quiet  reigns.  The  invalid 
slumbered  heavily,  with  a  strange  look  on  his  pallid  features  ; 
the  children  had  been  nervous  and  excited,  but  at  last  fatigue 
lent  its  influence  in  wooing  their  little  bodies  to  repose  ;  for 
drowsy  sleep  came  stealing  gently  o'er  their  innocent  Uttle 
minds  and  at  last  they  lay  dreaming  in  the  arms  of  Mor- 
pheus. 

Maggie  too,  had  been  unusually  excited  and  full  of  gossip  ; 
but  at  last  she  grew  tired  of  Jenny's  society,  and  sought  also 
her  piilow^ — to  dream  of  the  future — a  handsome  young  fellow 
in  his  faultless  suit  of  bhie. 


^e  ''BLUE  AND  gray:' 

The  oil  in  the  night-lamp  is  burning  low  ;  a  hush  is  falling 
on  all  around. 

A  mocking  bird  now  and  then  twitters,  then  trills  a  few 
sweet  notes  as  he  perches  on  a  branch,  snuffing  the  white 
orange  blossoms,  that  are  still  striving  to  lend  their  fragrance, 
or  inspire  with  their  beauty,  the  passing  breeze  and  scene 
around. 

What  a  lesson  this  litde  songster  imparts  to  those  that 
would  trouble  themselves  to  receive  instruction  from  so  hum- 
ble a  source  ;  humble  or  not,  he  has  a  power  in  his  voice  that 
man  cannot  excel ;  a  tiny  little  creature,  but  withal  must  have 
a  heart,  if  not  larger  in  size,  is  surely  far  more  deeply  filled 
with  a  warmth  of  true  devotion  and  fidelity. 

He  has  only  instinct  to  guide  him  through  the  vale,  to  reach 
him  to  shun  evil  companions,  and  those  who  would  rob  him  of 
his  life-blood,  or  imprison  the  glorious  gifts  that  God  bestowed 
upon  him.  He  has  only  instinct  to  teach  him  the  true  devo- 
tion that  is  jusily  due  to  his  mate,  and  he  guards  her  with 
fidelit}^  while  she  sits  within  the  nest  sleeping  \vith  one  eye 
open,  not  only  watching  her  liege  lord,  but  catching  the 
humming  musquitoes  or  the  brilliant  fire-fly  to  assist  in  feed- 
ing the  ever  open  mouths  of  her  hungry  little  fledglings,  on 
which  she  is  sitting  to  protect  from  the  cold. 

Her  mate  has  no  judgment  or  reason,  yet  he  is  fidelity  it- 
self ;  and  will  not  bring  another  bird  to  his  nest  to  tempt  her 
affection,  or  steal  away  his  happiness,  but  he  twitters  and 
sings,  for  his  is  a  life  of  joy,  marred  by  no  foul  deeds  or 
wicked  thoughts. 

The  sick  man  lay  dreaming  of  devils,  held  tight  in  the  arms 
of  his  own  direful  imaginations,  and  evil  doings. 

Another,  is  waiting  in  the  cold  and  damp,  "even  until 
morning." 

"What  must  I  do?  it  is  wrong!  but  then  he  saved  my 
child  ;  and  it  is  only  to  ^d^y  farewell. "^^ 

"  Yes,  I  will  go  !  poor  fellow  I  he  is  waiting."  She  goes 
as  far  as  the  little  portico,  which  is  now  filled  with  the  climb- 
ing multifloras,  but  hastily  retraces  her  steps. 


BLUE  AND  GRAir  91 


'*  Oh  I  must  not  go  !  I  dare  not  go  !  .but  then  I'll  never  see 

him  again." 

She  returns  to  her  husband's  room,  he  appears  to  be  fast 
asleep  ;  visits  her  children,  who  seem  to  be  in  the  land  of 
bright  visions.  She  kisses  them.  Charley  moves  and  whis- 
pers softly  the  name  of  Harold. 

Ah  !  now  she  can  resist  no  longer ;  her  boy  speaks  for 
him  ;  no  more  indecision,  no  more  question  of  right  or  wrong  ; 
but  softly — softly  down  the  steps — across  the  garden  path^ 
then — 

A  dark  motionless  shadow  some  distance  down  the  long 
aisle  of  the  arbor ;  as  she  approaches,  it  springs  into  life, 
moves  rapidly  toward  her,  and  clasps  convulsively  her  ex- 
tended hands  as  she  stopped  trembling  and  sobbing. 

"  Darhng  !  "  was  again  the  endearing,  the  only  word  that 
escaped  those  compressed  lips,  and  that  in  a  soft  musical  but 
thrilling  tone. 

The  silent  stars  peeped  through  the  painted  lattice-work 
and  the  bright  twinkle  of  their  brilhant  orbs,  shot  forth  a 
brighter  twmkle  still ;  while  the  gentle  tear-drops  from 
Night's  soft  dark  eyes,  falls  upon  the  sympathetic  vines  that 
spread  their  protecting  arms  around,  to  shield  and  obscure 
from  sight  of  man,  that  pitiful,  and  to  unrighteous  judge,  dis- 
graceful scene  ;  but  her  guardian  angel  looked  up  to  God  who 
smiled  backed,  gently  lifting  a  warning  finger,  motioned  that 
"  all  was  well." 

The  crisis  has  arrived.  That  ravaging  disease  that  physi- 
cians cannot  cure — Love — often  an  i^ms-fattms ;  a  Will-o'- 
wisp  that  lures  on,  in  search  of  the  golden  sands  that  sprinkle 
the  way,  while  brightly  gleaming  ahead  in  Love's  young 
dream  in  letters  of  gold — Eureka  !  Eureka.  Alas  !  when 
found  it  may  sadly  prove  that  it  is  '*  not  all  gold  that  glitters." 
Then  search  along  a  Httle  further  and  you  may  find  the 
sweet  hope,  or  "  Balm  of  Gilead,"  which '^may  assist  to  cure 
or  ease  your  pain  until  the  final  setting  of  your  Sun. 

"Darling,  I  thought  you  would  never  come  !  The  night 
hath  seemed  very,  very  long.  I  was  afraid  you  lacked  faith,, 
and  would  not  trust  me." 


?) 8  ''  BL UE  A ND  GRA  7 ' 


*'  Oh,  what  shall  I  do?  What  will  you  think  of  me,  Ha- 
rold?" 

"  What  will  I  think  ?  What  do  I  think  of  you  darling,  now  ? 
why  that  you  are  an  angel,  and  mine!  and  do,  Jenny  love? 
Oh  I  w^hat  shall  \\^  do?  we  belong  to  each  other,  then  come 
with  me  love — let  us  fl}'  to  the  other  side  of  the  world." 

She  quickly  and  forcibly  withdrew  her  hands,  and  stagger- 
ing would  have  fallen  to  the  ground,  had  not  the  horror- 
stricken  tumult  within  herself,  given  her  strength,  and  she 
exclaimed  in  withering  contempt : 

'*  Begone,  Harold  Clinton'  I  am  basely  deceived!  M}- 
God  !  how  I  trusted  this  man  !  Would  3^ou,  sir,  stoop  to  mur- 
der !  Would  you  go  down  into  the  depths  of  sin,  and  drag  me 
with  you?  for  it  would  be  murder  to  quench  the  last  remain- 
ing spark  of  comfort  left  me  by  despair — that  of  my  hope  of 
Heaven,"   and  pointing  upward — she  continued  : 

''  Ask  God  to  forgive  you.     Go  and  leave  me  to  die." 

The  crisis  is  passing  b}" — the  stars  are  laughing  yet — the 
angel  sighs  in  relief,  while  God  with  a  pleased  smile  looks 
down. 

"  Oh  Jenny,  Jenny  !  in  God's  name  forgive  me,  I  was  wild  ! 
I  was  mad  !  but  say  Jenny  that  you  love  me,  and  I  will  go 
from  your  sight ;  say  one  kind  word  Jenny  love." 

She  motioned  him  away,  but  he  clasped  her  hands,  again, 
voluntaril}'  slid  down  on  his  knees  before  her,  and  in  most 
tender  and  respectful  tones,  exclaimed  : 

"  Jenny  once  more,  and  on  my  knees,  I  humbly  and  before 
God,  ask  your  pardon.  Never  before  did  I,  nor  will  I  ever 
again  bend  my  knee  to  any,  only  to  my  God,  my  beloved, 
only  to  m}^  God.  See  Jenny,  it  can  be  no  bad  man,  that  has 
never  parted  with  the  bible  given  him  by  a  loving  mother ; 
and  see  darling,  the  faded  flowers  you  gave  me  the  evening 
your  house  burnt. 

"  Oh,  Jenny,  I  was  mad  ;  but  my  mighty  love  forced  those 
dreadful  words  from  my  lips.  Trust  me  again  darling,  and  I 
will  only  be  your  faithful  slave.  One  forgiving  w^ord  and  I 
will  go.  Speak,  Jenny  ;  or  are  you  dead  to  all  feelings  of 
compassion?  " 


BLUE  AND  gray:'  99 


She  had  unclasped  her  hand,  again  found  her  voice  : 

"  Go  and  leave  me  in  peace,  Harold  Clinton  ;  I  was  crazy 
to  disbelieve  that^  which  you  must  fail  to  remember.  Go  ! 
Go!" 

He  staggered  to  his  feet,  but  his  dormant  pride  flashed 
forth — his  anger  was  aroused — a  bitter  mocking  laugh  rang 
on  the  still  night  air ;  he  advanced  a  few  steps  intending  to 
leave  her  presence  without  another  word  ;  but  no,  he  miLst 
speak  yet  once  again. 

"  Never,  neve7'  again  will  I  believe  in  the  tender  mercies  or 
forgiving  spirit  of  wo7nan.  If  7,  in  my  desparate  love  for  you, 
said  that,  for  which  I  would  give  worlds  to  recall,  and  on  my 
knees  asked  forgiveness,  you  have  in  3^our  stubborn  pride 
stabbed  me  to  the  heart ;  my  fault  was  grievous  ;  yours,  cruel, 
cruel.  We  are  quits  now  Mrs.  Bancroft,  and  when  you  hear 
of  my  life  and  my  fate  from  this  night,  remember,  that  you 
sent  me  to  7'ttin  and  despair.     FareweMl  cruel,  cruel  woman.'*' 

He  turned  and  was  gone  ;  his  steps  sound  outside  on  the 
grevel  walk  like  a  death  knell  to  all  hopes ;  it  crushed 
upon  her  brain !  she  grew  wild — frantic !  she  could  not 
endure  the  maddening  pain !  she  was  now  a  murderess ! 
murdering  her  own  feelings — murdering  the  better  impulses 
of  one  of  God's  repentant  souls  ;  and  with  an  agonizing  ap- 
peal that  thrilled  to  the  heart's  core  of  his  very  being,  she 
sprang  quickly  to  his  side — 

*'  Don't  go,  Harold,  love  !  don't  go  yet  I  I  wdll  die  for  you  ! 
poor  boy  !  poor  Harold  !" 

He  stood  motionless  one  moment — the  revulsion  of  feeling 
was  so  sudden  ;  then  involuntarily  raised  his  eyes  upward, 
and  swept  in  one  flashing  glance  the  glorious  heavens — then 
for  one  moment  he  pressed  her  to  his  heart — kissed  her  pas- 
sionately— and  as  quickty  let  her  go  !  !  ! 

"Who  has  conquered?"  whispered  the  rustling  leaves — 
Man  !  said  the  frolicsome  breeze — Woman  !  whispered  the 
soft  moonbeams — Love  !  sang  the  mocking  bird  ;  who  had 
been  a  silent  spectator  of  this  scene  of  our  little  drama. 

Yet  little  did  they  dream  that  a  pair  of  human  fierce  glar- 
ing eyes  were  feasting  upon  them  as  well. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

For  weal  or  woe  these  oaths  are  given! 

Seal'd,  by  angels  tears  of  pity; 
Witness'd,  by  the  hosts  of  Heaven 

Recorded,  in  the  Eternal  City. 

HE  silvery  and  subdued  light  of  the  moon  threw  a  soft 
halo  upon  surrounding  objects,  and  her  bewitching  in- 
^j  fluence  was  felt  by  all  that  were  under  her  mild  and 
gentle  power.  The  stars  are  not  laughing  now.  The  soft- 
eyed  dew  sprinkles  all  around  with  its  tears,  and  the  evening 
breeze  moans  and  sobs  in  sympathy  :  while  her  guardian  angel 
looks  up  in  dismay ;  yet  again  God  smiled,  only  a  little  stern^ 
but  still  motioned,  that,   ''  all  was  well." 

*'  Let  us  return  and  sit  down,  Jenny!  you  are  weary  and 
tired  out  little  woman  !  lean  upon  me  darling,  you  can  trust 
me  now^  poor  child.     Poor  child  !  there,  sit  down." 

Poor  little  caged  bird  !  No  use  to  flap  3'our  plumed  wings. 
The  Inevitable  has  woven  its  insurmountable  links  around  you, 
and  you  may  beat  against  the  bars,  and  flutter  your  life  away  ; 
but  never  again,  until  Time  has  developed,  will  he  remove  the 
bars  and  give  3^ou  liberty.  Only  the  "  Father"  can  comfort 
such  a  one. 

**  Jenny,  dear,  you  are  the  only  woman  I  have  ever  loved  % 
but  let  us  bury  the  past,  and  think  in  true,  sober  earnest  of 
the  future  Do  you  know,  Jenny,  that  it  is  more  than  prob- 
able that  your  husband  is  fast  sinking  into  his  grave?"  She 
shuddered,  but  made  no  reply.  "Shall  I  tell  you  what  the 
physician  said?  Do  you  think  you  have  strength  to  bear  it, 
Jenny?" 

'*  Yes,  tell  me  ;  tell  me  quick  !" 

"  It  may  be  worse  than  you  surmise  or  imagine  ;  it  ma}'  be 
that  he  may — live.     Shall  I  tell  you,  darling? 

"  Harold  !     Why  torture  me?     What  do  you  mean?" 


BLUE  AND  GRAT:'  101 


**  Poor  Jenn}^ !  the  whole  of  your  husband's  organic  system 
is  diseased,  and  he  may  die  soon  ;  but  worse — far  worse  is 
the  mind  ;  that  is  not  only  diseased,  but  is  weakening  daily, 
and  is  now  almost,  if  not  entirely  destroyed  :  he  may  live  for 
months,  perhaps  for  years  ;  but  oh,  Jenny,  he  may  be 

"What!  what!  Harold?" 

''A  lunatic,  darling." 

She  was  stunned  !  she  staggered,  and  would  have  fallen, 
had  he  not  reached  forth  and  drew  her  to  his  side. 

"Look  up  Jenny;  be  strong.  I  did  not  tell  you  this  to 
wound  you,  but  out  of  love,  darling ;  it  is  far  best  that  you 
know  the  worst  at  once,  and  prepare  for  any  emergency. 
You  must  not  live  alone  Jenn}^  without  some  protection.  Try 
and  persuade  those  two  young  men  that  work  your  garden 
and  field,  to  come  and  live  in  the  house,  they  will  protect  you  ; 
they  are  steady  good  boys,  and  if  not  over-refined,  have  good 
hearts  ;  and  it  is  not  society  you  need,  so  much  as  protection. 
I  have  remained  longer  than  I  ought,  for  that  very  reason;  but 
I  imcst  go,  love  ;  ■prudence  has  raised  a  warning  finger.  I 
cannot  tamely  stand  by  and  see  you  suffering  ;  and  the  know- 
ledge of  our  feelings  toward  each  other,  will  condemn  us  in 
the  eyes  of  the  world.  We  cannot  live  as  we  are  now,  under 
the  same  roof  ;  in  fact,  we  ought  never  to  meet  again,  until 
I  can  with  honor  offer  you  my  protection — and  you  can,  with- 
out a  blush  for  yourself  and  children,  receive  it." 

"  Go,  Harold  !     Please  go  !" 

"  Not  so  fast,  love  ;  some  day  I  shall  claim  3^ou  as  my  own. 
Say,  love,  Jenny  love,  my  onl}^  love  ;  shall  I  come  for  you  the 
very  day — the  very  hour  that  you  are  free  ?  Will  you  then 
be  mine — mine  only,  to  eternity?  Look  up,  Jenny.  Oh, 
cruel  fate  that  divides  us  !  Nothing  shall  keep  you  from 
me."     He  was  getting  excited. 

"  Come,  Jenny,  let  us  seal  the  compact !  you  have  not  ans- 
wered— darling,  shall  I  go  now?" 

"  No  !  no,  Harold  !  I  am  stunned  and  conscience  stricken. 
Poor  Dick  !  and  just  to  think  I  get  so  cross  with  him," — she 
starts  to  leave  him — "Let  me  go  to  him,  even  now,  he  may 
be  dying." 


102  ''BLUE  AND  gray: 


"Leave  me  now  without  some  pledge,  Jenny,  and  never, 
never  again  will  you  behold  my  face — or  hear  from  me — 
never  !  never T^ 

He  was  greatly  excited  now,  and  terribly  in  earnest :  as 
pale  as  death ;  while  his  eyes  fairl}^  blazed  with  a  fierce 
light. 

She  looked  back — *'  Don't  say  that,  Harold,  or  1  shall  die." 

*'  So  shall  I  ;  if  ^^ou  don't  give  me  something  to  live  upon  ;. 
to  dream  upon  in  the  future  ;  but  go  I  go  on  I  never  mind 
me  !" — and  he  turned  aside. 

'*Oh!  I  will  say  anything,   Harold!     What  must  I  say?" 

''Well  love,  come  here." 

Both  shook  like  aspens  ;  their  hands  were  icy  cold  ; — their 
brains  swam  ; — their  blood  surged  through  their  veins  like 
molten  lava. 

'*  Right  here,  Jenny  ;  now  give  me  your  hand.  Come  this 
way;  where  the  silvery  gleams  of  the  lover's  friend,  can  wit- 
ness our  compact,  signed  and  sealed.  What  will  you  promise,. 
Jenny?" 

''An}' thing,  Harold;  anything  I"  she  was  getting  very 
frightened  at  his  solemn  manner,  his  strange  behavior. 

"  Come  then,  love  ;  kneel  with  me  ;  and  let  us  look  up  to 
God,  and  in  His  presence,  alone,  let  us  bind  ourselves  with 
an  everlasting  oath.  Kneel  with  me,  love;  now  my  own! 
If  never  on  this  earth,  in  heaven  you  will  be  mine.  Here  is 
my  bible;  a  mother's  gift;  ah,  she  is  a  noble  woman!  but 
proud  !  proud  !" 

"And  now  with  my  right  hand  on  the  Hol3^-Book  ;  my  left 
upon  my  heart,  my  eyes  looking  up  to  God,  appealing  for 
forgiveness  and  intercession;  1  swear — yes,  swear;  that  no 
other  woman  on  earth,  or  in  heaven,  shall  ever  feel  the  touch 
of  my  lips,  or  be  enfolded  within  these  arms — not  even  for 
one  moment — but  my  dear  mother,  and  you,  my  darling.  And 
if  I  ever  break  this  oath,  which  is  binding  before  God,  may 
He  put  upon  me  every  disgrace  and  torture  that  wicked  men 
ever  suffer.  Moreover,  I  swear;  that  no  matter  where  I  am, 
if  on  the  other  side  of  the  earth,  or  dead,  yes,  dead,  Jenny; 
if  you  send  for  me,  or  call  me,  I  will  come,  and,  if  alive,  be 


BLUE  AND  GRA7:'  103 


your  slave  forever ;  if  dead,  will  watch  and  guard  you,  until 
you  come  to  me  ;  then  we  shall  be  all  in  all  to  each  other." 

She  was  frightened,  terrified,  almost  senseless  ;  but  she  had 
now  found  a  will,  that  completely  and  surely  controlled  her 
own — her  master — and  she  could  do  nothing  but  what  he  dic- 
tated. 

**  Now,  darling  ;  your  part  of  the  contract-  " 

"Wasn't  he  mad?"  thought  she,  as  nervous  spasms  con- 
vulsed her  frame. 

**  Come,  Jenny,  your  oath.  Mine  has  already  been  caught 
up  by  the  angels — taken  and  registered  in  that  great  book — 
God's  day  book.     Yours  must  not  be  behind,  sweet  love." 

'*  Swear  that,  w^hen  the  dividing  link  is  broken,  you  will  be 
mine.  That  from  now,  and  for  ever  no  man,  other  than 
myself,  shall  embrace  you ;  no  kiss,  other  than  mine,  or  your 
children,  shall  touch  those  sweet  lips — they  are  sacred  now — 
and  that  you  will  send  for  me  after  it  has  pleased  God  to  re- 
move from  our  pathway,  the  obstacle  to  our  honorable  meet- 
ings, and  legal  union  of  our  famished  hearts.  Swear,  Jen- 
ney,  on  this  bible." 

"  I  swear  !  Harold  ;  that  it  shall  be  as  you  say  ;  let  me  go 
now,  to  poor  Dick ;  he  may  need  me." 

'*In  one  minute  love; — we  have  both  sworn  : — The  Two 
Oaths"  are  registered  before  High  Heaven,  and  in  presence 
of  all  the  assembled  hosts,  that  are  forever  before  the  Great 
White  Throne. 

I  must  leave  you  darling,  but  every  day  after  sunset  ever 
look  out,  and  if  the  skies  are  clear,  seek  the  bright  evening 
star  and  send  or  waft  a  loving  message,  and  I  will  do  the 
same.  Never  miss  doing  it  darhng,  for  I  shall  be  waiting 
and  watching,  and  will  return  the  message,  love.  If  the  even- 
ing is  cloudy,  and  no  stars  are  to  be  seen,  let  us  both  again 
kneel  in  solitude  and  renew  our  oaths.  You  shall  hear  from 
me  often,  and  when  you  bid  me  come,  I'll  hasten. 

"Arise  Jenny!"  He  almost  pressed  out  the  little  hfe 
that  was  in  her  body,  by  a  long  and  impassioned  embrace  ; 
their  Hps  seemed  cemented,  never  to  be  parted — as  he  lifted 
her  in  his  strong  arms,   and   carried  her  toward  the  house  ; 


104  ''BLUE  AND  GRA7 


but  at  last — and  with  a  whisper — as  he  placed  her  on  the 
steps,  said  : — 

"Darling,  Farewell  I  Farezvell!  and  may  God  forever 
bless  you." 

Gone  !  gone  I  gone  down  the  [walk  from  her  gaze.  She 
totters,  and  falls  over,  on  the  cold  hard  steps  in  a  death-like 
swoon  ;  at  the  same  moment,  a  dark  cloud  hid  the  friendly 
moon. 

The  angel  had  winged  her  way  to  Heaven,  but  God  said  to 
her,  "go  back,  and  guard  my  sinful  child.  Forsake  her 
not  I  She  has  done  naught  to  anger  me.  'Tis  a  weak  reed 
and  must  be  strengthened." 

"  Go  back  !  the  end  is  not  yet.  Hasten  !  for  your  presence 
is  sorely  needed.  She  hath  overcome  evil — but  not  yet  can 
she  wander  alone  'mid  the  dangers  of  earth. 

"Go  back!  the  end  is  not  yet.  Take  with  you  physical 
strength  and  endow  her  anew,  for  the  time  draws  near — when 
the  beast  will  crave  the  blood  of  its  offspring,  and  the  lioness 
battle  for  its  young.     But  the  end  is  not  yet."     Go  back. 


j^lffiqiSaiAi-i^d 


n  III  1 1 1  III!  iiiii  in  1 1 1 1 1 1 II 1 1 1  1 11 1 1 1  im  1 1 1 1 1 1 11 1 1 1 1 1 1  III  III  1 1  III  I  ri  I  Ml  i  i-iiiin  "iitTi  §  m  i  i  i  ij  iiiiiiri 


^.^a.^^^^50^?^^^^^^^^^^^^^:<^s^:^:^^:^^j:^^ 


CHAPTKR    XVIII. 


''  Help  I   Help  I  "  rang  shrill  on  the  night  air: 

Was  shrieked  in  anguish  wild; 
'*HelpI   Help!"  the  cry  of  deep  despair 
''  Oh  save  mv  darling  child!  " 


HAT  is  it  ?  What  is  that  hideous  looking  white  object 
M^f|  that  raises  its  white  arms  aloft — dancing  and  whirl- 
^^]  ing  around — that  darts  toward  Jenn}^?  It  rudel}^ 
^shakes  her ;  gives  her  fallen  hair  a  sudden  twist  that  nearly 
tears  its  roots  ;  also  tearing  her  flesh  with  its  long  finger  nails^ 
bringing  the  blood,  which  ran  down  her  arms,  trickling 
through  the  thin  mushn  covering,  and  fell  drop-by-drop  upon 
the  white  scoured  steps. 

The  extreme  bodily  pain  must  have  succumbed  to  mental 
anguish,  for  she  began  to  show  signs  of  life  ;  and  this  caused 
the  tall,  white  object  to  caper  more  vehemently  than  ever. 

"Ha,  ha,  ha  I  ladylove!  snow  flake  I  snow  flake  I  you've 
got  blood  !  blood  !  I  want  blood  I  more  blood  yet !  ah  I  you 
wake.  I'll  wake  you,  if  you  are  dead  I  dead!  ha,  ha  I 
That  boy  did  it!  Yes,  that  boy  did  it !  got  drowned,  eh? 
Yes,  I'll  have  his  blood!  blood!  My  child?  No!  Did'nt 
he  spit  in  my  face?  Blood  !  Look,  I'll  have  his  blood  !  I'll 
have  his — ha,  ha,  ha,  ha  !  " 

It  sprang  up  the  steps  and  disappeared  in  the  house. 

Those  last  words  uttered  b}^  the  raving  maniac,  roused  the 
mother  in  the  half  dead  woman's  breast — she  had  been  almost 
changed  to  stone  from  the  fearful  fright  and  excruciating  pain, 
yet  had  lived  through  it  all.  But  all  had  been  a  blank  with- 
out one  scratch  to  mark  the  past,  and  it  was  not  until  she 
heard  those  last  words,  that  all  her  mother  nature  was  center- 
ed in  one  smothered  exclamation,   my  child!   my  child  !   as  a 


106  ''  BLUE  AND  GRAIV 

dreadful  thought  flashed  through  her  now  reviving,  troubled 
and  naturally  quick  brain.  Self  or  self  preservation  was  not 
now  thought  of,  and  although,  apparently  too  weak  to 
move — Instinct — Love,  and  her  child's  safety,  gave  renewed 
strength  to  her  nearly  worn  out  frame  ;  faintness  was  swept 
away,  and  the  strength  of  a  lioness  was  hers  for  the  time  being,, 
to  battle  with  life  a  little  longer,  and  to  brave  a  raving  maniac  ; 
to  protect  the  life  of  her  darling  boy.  She  gave  one  piercing 
shriek,  that  fell  on  the  ears  of  mo7'e  than  one,  and  followed 
the  maniac  who  had  in  his  violent  rage  and  madness,  made 
sad  havoc  with  her  darling  boy's  rocking  horse  that  stood  in 
the  little  hall.  He  was  now  passing  into  the  room  where  lay 
her  two  children,  Lillie  and  Charley,  seeking  their  blood,  his 
own,  that  went  surging  through  their  young  veins. 

Somewhere  he  had  picked  up  a  knife,  and  which  (when 
she  entered  the  room)  he  was  brandishing  above  the  heads 
of  the  little  sleepers,  grinning  and  shrieking  like  a  demon. 
Jenny  sprang  upon  him  like  a  tigress,  and  tried  to  wrench  the 
knife  from  his  grasp.  He  howled  like  a  wild  animal  at  bay, 
while  Jenny  screamed  again  and  again,  as  she  clutched  the 
knife,  and  with  a  strength  and  dexterity  unsurpassed,  she 
managed  to  loose  his  hold  of  it,  and  sent  it  whirling  through 
the  only  window  of  the  room,  which  had  been  left  open  to 
give  ventilation. 

The  children,  now  awakened,  were  screaming  in  terror, 
Meg  had  rushed  in,  realizing  the  situation,  also  screamed,  in 
her  awful  fright  for,  ''  help  !  help  !  "  yet  offering  no  assist- 
ance to  the  agonized  mother,  who  was  still  battling  for  her 
boy. 

No  sooner  had  Jenny  loosed  the  knife  from  the  grasp  of 
the  maniac,  than,  he  suddenly  pushing  her  aside,  made  a 
spring  and  caught  her  brave  little  boy,  who  had  sprang  out  of 
bed,  saying : 

''  You  old  thing — you  shan't  fight  my  Mamma  "  and  had 
taken  a  large  walking  stick  that  stood  in  one  corner  of  the 
room,  and  was  now  advancing  to  the  rescue.  But  at  that 
moment,  his  father  who  was  now  raging  and  frenzied  at  los- 
ing the   knife   seized  him  by  the  right  leg,  and  in  his  mad 


BLUE  AND  gray:'  10- 


Strength,  swung  him  round  by  it,  as  though  he  intended  to 
dash  out  his  brains  against  the  wall. 

New  strength  was  given  to  Jenny,  and  she  tried  to  bear  the 
strong  and  powerful  man  to  the  floor,  while  the  httle  fellow 
screamed  with  pain. 

'*He  is  killing  me  Mamma!  Mamma!  oh,  my  leg,  my 
leg!" 

'*  Harold  !  Harold  !  my  God  !  why  don't  you  comer'  " 

**  I  am  here,  Jenny,  and  I  pray  God  in  time." 

The  poor  woman  caught  one  glimpse  of  the  tall  form.  His 
voice  rang  in  her  ears,  and  she  sank  down,  down  ;  and  lay 
in  one  dead  heap  upon  the  floor. 

Harold  had  heard.     Harold  had  come. 

But  the  fury  of  the  madman  was  not  diminished  at  sight  of 
Harold,  he  dropped  the  child  at  once,  and  rushed  upon  our 
hero,  screaming  ''  blood  !  blood  !  "  and  the  two  tall  forms  at 
once  closed.  A  desperate  struggle  ensued — a  desperate  trial  of 
strength — both  swaying  backward  and  forward  like  a  ship  in 
a  gale.  But  other  parties  come  upon  the  scene.  Two 
butchers  that  were  passing  in  going  to  market  had  heard  the 
screams  and  came  in  to  see  what  was  going  on.  Also  a 
chunky  grey-whiskered  kindly  visaged  old  man  in  an  old 
fashioned  gig,  and  old-time  saddlebags,  saw  the  butchers  stop 
their  wagons,  and  go  in,  and  he  followed,  hastening,  as  he 
heard  the  strange  noises  on  nearing  the  house.  And  so  there 
were  three  others  upon  the  stage. 

The  two  butchers  with  their  gleaming  knives  stuck  in  their 
leathern  belts  seemed  to  terrify  the  madman,  and  a  new  freak 
seized  him.  Harold  had  called  for  a  rope  to  bind  him, 
but  he,  still  crying  for  "blood!  blood!"  jerked  suddenly 
away,  and  would  have  sprang  out  of  the  window  ;  but  he  was 
again  caught  by  Harold  ;  and  it  took  the  united  strength  of 
the  three  men  to  hold  him,  and  bind  his  arms  and  legs. 

The  doctor — for  it  was  he — no  sooner  entered  the  room, 
than  he  espied  Jenny  lying  on  the  floor,  apparently  dead  ; 
and  little  Charley  also  on  the  floor,  moaning  in  agony,  while 
bitter  tears  rolled  down  his  pale  cheeks. 

Lillian  sat  upright  on  the  bed,  but  ever}^  bit  of  life  seemed 


108  '' BLUE  AND  GRAY 


to  have  left  her  little  body  also.  Maggie  was  crying,  wring- 
ing her  hands,  and  trying  to  soothe  Charley  ;  also,  trying  to 
bring  Jenny  back  to  life  ;  all  spasmodically,  or  in  turn. 

"  What  shall  we  do  with  him,  Mr.  Clinton?  "  asked  one  of 
the  butchers. 

"  Tie  him  to  the  bed-post,"  and  he  turned  his  attention  to 
Jenny  and  Charley. 

"  Let  me  take  her  to  another  room,  doctor.  I  will  carry 
her.     Can  you  bring  little  Charley?  " 

"Yes  ;  get  her  out  of  this  for  God's  sake." 

Even  the  good  old  doctor,  usually  so  glib  of  tongue,  was 
not  only  touched  but  horror-stricken. 

"  Come,  my  little  man,"  said  he  tenderly  to  Charley,  "  we 
will  take  you  to  another  room  ,  where  there  is  more  air  and 
better  light. 

"Oh,  my  leg!"  screamed  the  poor  little  fellow,  as  the 
doctor  lifted  him  carefully. 

Harold  led  the  way  to  the  room  that  had  been  his,  and 
placed  Jenny  upon  the  bed,  then  quickly  lit  the  lamp.  The 
doctor  followed  with  her  bo}^  who  still  pitiously  cried  :  "oh, 
my  leg!" 

After  a  little  time  Jenn}^  opened  her  eyes,  but  for  the  pres- 
ent her  reason  had  fled  ;  poor  strained  human  being  had  given 
w^ay,  and  she  lay  like  some  wilted  flower  blighted  by  cruel 
storms,  and  piercing  blasts. 

Yes,  Mr.  Bancroft  was  a  raving  maniac,  and  had  been  near 
killing  his  child,  also  his  wife,  while  she  in  her  desperate  en- 
deavors was  striving  to  shield  her  darling  boy. 

Poor  Httle  Charley  I  How  he  suffered  !  The  doctor  ex- 
amined his  leg,  and  found  it  dislocated  at  the  knee  joint — ter- 
ribly bruised,  and  ugly  scratches  made  by  the  long  finger 
nails  was  perceptible  ;  while  it  was  swelling  fast. 

The  doctor,  Harold  and  Maggie  w^orked  hard  and  faithful 
toward  both  sufferers  ;  one  or  two  particular  friends  were  dis- 
patched for,  and  came  readily.  LiUian  was  discovered  to 
have  a  high  fever,  caused  from  fright  and  exposure — so  said 
the  doctor. 

Ah  I  what  a  sad  household  !     Other  physicians  were  called 


'' BLUE  AND  gray:'  109 


in  to  consult  with  Jenny's  kind  old  friend.  They  announced 
that  there  were  little  hopes  of  Jenny's  recovery  ;  and,  that 
poor  little  Charley — the  brave  Httle  curly  headed  darling, 
would,  more  than  probable,  be  a  cripple  for  life. 

Harold,  strong  man  as  he  was,  could  not  but  shed  tears, 
when  he  noted  the  little  sufferer's  courage,  and  his  oft  ex- 
pressed desire  "  to  do  something  for  mamma." 

Both  he  in  the  same  room,  for  the  brave  little  fellow  begged 
**  to  stay  close  to  mamma,  he  would  not  make  any  noise." 

Jenny  still  breathed,  and  Harold  continued  to  hope.  Dur- 
ing her  sickness,  it  was  a  noticeable  fact  and  commented 
upon,  that  no  matter  who  offered  her  a  glass  goblet  or  tum- 
bler, whatever  it  contained,  she  would  not  touch  it ;  but  grew 
more  restless,  and  frequently  went  into  a  rambling  medley — 
mixing  in  a  heterogeneous  manner — many  of  the  words  and 
incidents  of  that  eventful  and  never  to  be  forgotten  dav  and 
night. 

The  day  had  been  very  warm,  the  windows  all  open  to  al- 
low full  and  free  ventilation  and  plenty  of  fresh  air.  Jenny 
slumbered  quietly  most  of  the  da3^  The  old  doctor  was  con- 
stant in  his  attentions,  in  fact,  he  spent  most  of  his  spare  time 
with  his  '  daughter,'  as  he  often  called  Jenny.  To-day  he 
was  seen  to  smile,  and  he  looked  up  brightly  as  Harold  came 
to  the  bedside,  and  said  :  *'  She  seems  better,  I  think,  and  the 
little  fellow  too  ;  and  both  seem  quiet." 

"  Yes,  doctor;  I  think  so  too  !  and  thank  God;  but  don't 
you  think  that,  that  band  of  music  will  disturb  them?  " 

''  No,  I  guess  not.  I  would  like  to  be  with  her  at  that  par- 
ticular moment,  but  cannot,  for  I  haven't  been  to  see  Mr, 
Watkins  to-day,  and  he  sent  for  me  just  now ;  but  I  know 
Harold  that  when  that  boat  comes  by  with  its  living  freight  of 
blue-coats  and  our  poor,  poor  boys  ;  all  the  women  folks  will 
be  on  their  heads  ;  so  that,  I  give  my  strict  orders  that  you 
remain  in  the  room,  in  case  there  should  be  a  reaction.  Do 
you  hear  Mrs.  Miller?  it  is  my  order,  that  this  young  friend 
of  mine  remain  in  the  room,  when  of  all  that  hurly-burly  is 
at  hand — and  going  past." 

*'  Certainly,  doctor  ;  if  it  is  your  orders — but — " 


110  ''BLUE  AND  GRAY: 


'*  Never  mind  the  buts,  or  barrels  either,  madam.  You  can 
sta}'  by  too,  for  propriety's  sake,  for  I  know  what  you  in- 
tended to  say.  Good  afternoon  madam,  I'll  be  back  in  two 
or  three  hours." 

Mrs.  Miller  was  a  widow  lady  who  had  voluntary  chosen  to 
be  Jenny's  nurse.  Fair,  fat  and  forty  "  is  the  old  saying,  but 
she  was  fair,  fat  and  only  thirty,  so  she  said,  while  her  most 
intimate  friend  another  lady  who  was  but  a  young  maiden  of 
thirt3-live — declared,  that  '*  Agnes  was  at  least  five  years 
older  than  she  was" — she  would  say:  "  Why  just  look  at 
those  children  of  her's,  the}^  are  proof  enough." 

Mrs.  Miller  had  several  times  in  the  doctor's  presence,  also 
to  others,  spoke  of  the  impropriety  of  Harold's  visit  to  the 
sick  chamber. 

Little  did  the  old  doctor  care;  he  understood  the  position 
of  affairs.  He  and  Harold  had  had  man}^  confidential  chats, 
and  he,  of  all  the  wise  people  of  that  little  burg  and  its  sub- 
urbs, knew  what,  and  whom  the  young  man  was,  that  wore 
the  shabb}^  g^^y- 

The  boat  came  in  view,  swiftly  gliding  o'er  the  dancing 
waves,  the  band  struck  up  "  Home  Sweet  Home,"  and  the 
music,  soft,  low  and  sweet,  swells  upon  the  air,  and  is  car- 
ried by  gentle  zephyrs  to  the  ears  of  Jenny. 

She  opens  her  eyes,  and  whispers — "  beaujjful  " — recog- 
nizes Harold,  and  again  whispers — "  Have  the'  angels  come 
again  Harold,  for  our  oaths?  " 

Fortunately  they  were  at  that  moment  alone,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  her  crippled  child,  who  too,  had  awakened,  and 
appeared  enchanted  at  the  music,  and  at  hearing  his  mother's 
voice  once  more. 

Harold  bent  close  to  her  and  replied  :  '*  No  darling  it  is  a 
boat  with  a  band  of  music,  and  a  pleasure  party,  Drink  this 
darling.'' 

Mrs.  Miller  could  not  resist,  her  curiosity  having  gained 
the  upper  hand  of  propriety — so  that  she  went  to  take  '*  just 
one  peep  " — but  her  one  peep  lasted  several  minutes. 

Jenny  drank  what  Harold  gave,  and  although  he  partly 
raised  her  to  drink  it,    she  did  not  seem  to   be  so  debilitated 


BLUE  AND  GRAYy  111 


or  weak  as  micrht  have  been  expected.  He  had  been  careful 
to  offer  a  pretty  silver  cup  from  which  to  drink,  and  she  cast 
her  eyes  with  a  strange  eager  look  upon  it. 

"  It  is  little  Charley's,  Jenny,  isn't  it  pretty?  " 

"Yes.  Charley,  Charle}' ;  where  is  Charley?  Oh,  I  know 
now  !  "   and  she  put  up  her  hands  to  her  face. 

"  Here  I  am  mamma  ;  your  little  Charley  is  here." 

She  looked  eagerly  in  the  direction  where  her  boy  la3^  At 
that  moment  Mrs.  Miller  came  fluttering  in,  and  her  surprise 
was  great  as  she  noted  the  change  of  affairs — since  she  went 
out. 

"'Miss  Agnes,  why  don't  Charley  come  here?  " 

"•Oh,  Jenny!  don't  you  know   he   "    a   warning  look 

from  Harold,  as  he  said  : 

"  Don't  talk  too  much  Mrs.  Bancroft,  you  will  make  your- 
self sick  ;  try  to  rest  awhile  ;  your  kind  old  doctor  will  be 
back  presently." 

She  looked  at  him  enquiringly.  The  band  struck  up  the 
*'  Bonnie  Blue  Flag,"  she  listened  and  smiled — it  also  played 
"  Hail  Columbia," — she  did  not  smile  then — but  turned  over 
and  sighed. 

A  few  moments  more  passed,  and  Mrs.  Miller  bent  over 
her  to  see  if  she  were  again  sleeping,  but,  no  !  she  was  silent- 
ly crying — giving  vent  to  her  overcharged  feelings — large 
tear  drops  wended  their  way  down  her  pale  face — no  sobs, 
no  sound,  but  a  gentle  overflowing  of  a  bursting  heart. 

"  Don't  Jenn}^  you  must  not  cry  ;  you  have  been  right  sick, 
but  will  soon  be  well  now." 

''  I  think  she  will  be  better  after  those  tears  madam,  and  it 
is  m}^  advice  you  let  her  alone  for  a  few  minutes,  and  she  will 
gradually  recover  her  entire  faculties  ;  afl  will  be  revealed  to 
her  by  her  own  memory,  and  there  will  be  no  jar  upon  her 
present  debilitated  system." 

Thus  whispered  Harold  to  Mrs.  Miller. 

"  Are  you  a  physician,  Mr.  Clinton?  "  inquired  she  in  her 
natural  tone  of  voice. 

"  I  have  practiced  some  little  madam,  and  Doctor  Grumble 
being  aware  of  the  fact,  has  placed  implicit  confidence  in  me, 


112  BLUE  AND  GRAY:' 

and  we  have  consulted  frequently  ;  therefore,  madam,  as  Mrs. 
Bancroft's  physician,  have  I  used  the  privilege  of  showing  my 
presence,  where  you  seem  to  think  it  in  most  unwarrantable 
taste  and  improper;"  this  was  said  loudly,  or  in  his  natural 
tone. 

**  Excuse   me,    Mr.   CHnton,  Doctor,   I   suppose    I  should 

say-" 

''No,  madam  !  simply  Mr.  Clinton,  if  you  please,  and  now 
madam,  as  you  understand  the  true  position  of  affairs,  you 
will  greatly  oblige  me,  and  for  the  friendship  you  profess  to- 
ward your  sick  friend  here,  if  you  will  take  the  trouble  to 
explain  to  the  very  curious,  and  those  that  are  ever  eager  to 
make  "  a  mountain  out  of  a  mole  hill."  I  would  advise  that 
some  light  nourishment  be  given  to  my  patient  immediately." 

"  What  shall  I  get  Mr.  CHnton?  " 

''Stay,  I  will  call  Maggie  and  give  her  the  proper  direc- 
tions, and  bring  LiUie  to  see  her  mother." 

"  Lillie  is  asleep  in  the  next  room,  and  Maggie  has  gone 
to  town.  Don't  you  remember  that  her  Yankee  beau  is  on 
the  boat?" 

"  Ah,  I  had  forgotten  !  well  prepare  a  little  gruel  or  some- 
thing very  light,  and  which  you  can  get  ready  in  the  shortest 
time." 

Mrs-  Miller  again  left  the  room.  Harold  went  to  his  own 
room,  but  soon  returned  with  a  piece  of  ice  and  a  bottle, 
labeled  "  Fine  Old  Port ;  "  he  opened  it;  made  a  sangaree 
in  the  silver  cup,  and  took  it  to  the  bedside  of  Jenny.  Bend- 
ing over  her,  he  said  persuasively,  "Jenny,  dear  friend,  drink 
some  of  this  for  Harold."  Again  she  looked  at  him,  but  this 
time  smiled — smiled  through  the  tears  that  still  bedewed  her 
cheek,  as  she  raised  slightly  and  reached  for  the  cup,  and  ere 
she  drank  she  whispered :  "And  so  you  are  my  physician, 
Harold?" 

"Yes,  Jenny,  darling;  but  don't  ask  questions  yet.  You 
must  eat  and  drink,  and  be  strengthened.  I  will  bring  Lillie 
to  you  presently.  Your  little  Charley  is  not  very  well  to-day, 
and  has  gone  to  sleep  again,  we  must  not  wake  him." 

She  drank  a  little  of  the  sangaree,  lay  down  again,  and  was 


''BLUE  AND  gray:'  US 

soon  asleep.  Mrs.  Miller  returned  in  a  little  while  afterward 
and  found  both  Jenny  and  Charle}^  asleep,  and  Harold  stu- 
pidly poring  over  a  book  ;  while  he  lazily  passed  a  fan  back 
and  forth,  as  though  the  motions  he  made  with  it,  would  cool 
the  atmosphere  of  the  whole  room. 

And  Mr.  Bancroft  was  quiet  this  evening.  The  drowsy 
influence  of  the  atmosphere  must  have  had  its  effects  upon 
him,  or  nature  could  stand  no  more,  for  he  slept  after  many 
days  and  nights  of  constant  raving,  cursing,  and  breaking  of 
everything  within  his  reach ;  food  he  had  not  tasted  since  the 
day  before,  when  Harold  ordered  his  keepers  (the  two  youngs 
men  before  mentioned),  as  an  experiment,  to  lock  him  up  en- 
tirely alone,  and  leave  within  his  reach  a  large  roast  of  beef,, 
with  bread  and  a  tin  can  of  water  :  also  to  free  his  hands,  but 
to  keep  a  strict  watch  through  the  keyhole  that  he  might  not 
do  himself  an  injury.  The  ruse  succeeded  admirably.  He 
no  sooner  found  his  hands  untied,  and  himself  alone,  than 
the  cunning  of  lunacy  began  to  assert  itself.  He  untied  the 
cords  that  bound  him  to  the  bed  after  much  exertion.  It 
seemed  astonishing  to  those  two  young  men,  that  he  showed 
such  skill  and  dexterity;  they  never  having  experienced  or 
or  seen  the  like  before,  also  imagining  that  he  must  have  been 
nearly  dead  from  starvation.  One  oi  them  immediate^  re- 
ported to  Harold  and  his  order  was  still  to  *<let  him  alone, 
only  watch  him  carefully." 

After  feeling  himself  free,  the  madman  gave  a  roll  on  the 
bed,  imitating  the  actions  of  a  horse  or  mule  after  beino-  set 
free,  then  he  peeped  cautiously  around,  tried  the  window,  it 
had  been  barred  on  the  outside,  then  he  danced  frantically 
around  the  room  for  some  moments,  and  catching  sight  of  the 
meat,  he  made  a  dash  for  it,  clutching  it  with  his  lono-  fincrers, 
reminding  one  of  the  talons  of  a  vulture,  he  lite  rally  ^ore'^it  to 
pieces.  The  beef  had  been  cooked  to  that  stage  which  the 
epicure  favors  his  palate,  "rare;"  and  when  the  madman 
saw  the  blood  trickling  through  his  fingers,  he  laughed  and 
capered  up  and  down  the  room  gleefully,  saying  in  loud  ex- 
ulting whispers,  ''  blood  !  blood  !  oh,  I've  got  blood  !  "     He: 

8 


114 


BLUE  AND  GRAY 


seemed  to  care  little  for  bread,  and  drank  but  little  water; 
what  his  whole  nature  seemed  to  crave,  w^as  blood. 

We  will  leave  him  in  the  care  of  his  young  keepers  while 
we  go  in  search  of  some  of  his  "  kinsfolk,"  for  sometimes 
when  troubles  come  along,  professed  friends  forsake,  and  foes 
then  crowd  in  to  exult. 

Press  on  false  friends,  jy<9//?'  time  has  not  come.  Look  to 
your  left,  look  to  your  right,  and  be  less  deceitful,  you  know^ 
not  the  day  or  the  hour. 

"Watch,  for  the  bridegroom  cometh  ;"  Mind  your  ow^n 
.lamps  are  tilled  and  trimmed,  then,  all  will  be  well. 


ggg^^gg^gg 


l°l°i°ie^|°i°15i°^  °i°|  «°^^ 


■JaZ3US2IBJ8f : 


g^g;ggrr3T|I5^^^^rvT-:^^^ 


CHAPTKR     X:iX. 


I  speak  not,  I  trace  not,  I  breathe  not  thy  name, 
There  is  grief  in  the  sound,  there  is  guilt  in  the  fame, 
But  the  tear  which  now  burns  on  my  cheek  may  impart, 
The  deep  thoughts  that  dwell  in  that  silence  of  heart. 

Too  brief  for  our  passion,  too  long  for  our  peace, 
Were  those  hours — can  their  joy  or  their  bitterness  cease? 
We  repent — we  abjure — we  will  break  from  our  chain, 
We  will  part — we  will  fly  to — unite  it  again." 


^IJES,  she  was  a  fine  lady  truly,  if  fine  feathers  make  fine 
^i^     birds.     "  All  fuss  and  feathers,"  thought  Harold,  the 

^^J  day  she  came  sweeping  in,  dragging  a  long  train  of 
sleazy  silk  in  the  dust  and  dirt  behind  her  :  upon  her  head  she 
wore  a  diminutive  turban,  from  which  fell  a  small  piece  of 
lace,  slightly  covering  the  upper  part  of  the  face — a  masque 
veil  I  believe  it  is  called,  a  very  appropriate  name  ;  especially 
in  the  present  instance,  as  it  conveniently  served  to  hide  the 
crow's  feet  that  Time  had  placed  there  ;  and  which  were 
partly  filled  wdth  some  kind  of  cosmetic  ;  also  the  deep  flush 
of  her  cheek,  tliat  was  too  bright  a  red  to  be  natural  for  one 
in  good  health. 

She  rode  in  a  dilapidated  old  carriage,  to  which  was  attach- 
ed a  half  starved  mule,  with  a  darkie  driver,  black  as  the 
''  ace  of  spades,"  but  much  resembling  the  "  knave,"  so  ex- 
tremely picturesque  was  his  fanciful  costume,  which  consisted 
of  a  pair  of  old  blue  trousers  rolled  to  the  knee,  having  seve- 
ral fanciful  patches  to  fill  up  the  various  vacancies  caused  by 
either  minnie  balls,  bomb-shells,  or  Time's  wear  and  tear. 

He  had  on  his  head  an  old  blue  cap  adorned  with  a  red 
tassel;  his  coat — well  that  was  like  his  namesake  Joseph,  of 
Bible  history,  for  his  name  also,  was  Joseph,  but  was  called 
Josiah  for  short — /lis  coat  also,  was  of  many  colors,  and  if  he 
wasn't  sold  in  Egypt,  he  certainly  had  been  over  in  the  Yankee 
line,  and  the  way  he  did,  "geehaw,"  beat  and  batter  that  poor 


116  '' BLUE  AND  gray: 

mule,  was  a  matter  that  ought  to  have  arrested  the  immediate 
attention  of  the  philanthropic  fanatic,  and  it  is  certainly  su- 
prising  that  said  action  should  never  have  been  placed  on  re- 
cord by  Mr.  Berge. 

We  started  out,  intending  to  form  the  acquaintance  of  one 
of  La-Belle  Louisiane  ''high  falutin  plebians  ;"  yea,  v^erily,. 
a  parvenu,  but  in  her  own  estimation  an  aristocrat,  founded 
upon  her  gorgeous  gew-gaws,  dyed  silks,  and  bold  manoeuv- 
ring. 

And  now  this  fine  lady  had  come  to  see  and  be  seen,  with  her 
habit  of  prying  into  other  people's  affairs  with  a  curiosity 
very  annoying ;  she  had  also  a  disagreeable  manner  of  dicta- 
ting to  and  disagreeing  with  whomsoever  she  came  in  contact. 

Jenny  being  still  low  and  incapable  of  exertion,  Harold- 
wrote  a  note,  dictated  by  the  doctor,  to  the  two  sisters  of  Mr. 
Bancroft,  asking  them  to  come  and  assist  in  arranging  some 
plan  in  regard  to  their  brother. 

Mrs.  Frisk  was  a  cold,  heartless  woman  of  the  world,  caring- 
more  for  dress  and  show,  than  any  of  the  beauties  of  nature, 
and  for  the  w^orld's  opinions  and  its  too  ready  insinuations  and 
condemnations,  than  for  the  word  of  God  with  its  lessons  of 
of  Peace  and  Good-will  to  man,  and  its  many  precepts  of 
Charity. 

No,  she  would  not  see  her  brother  sent  to  an  asylum,  it 
would  be  a  disgrace  to  her  family.  She  didn't  believe  he  was 
insane  anyway,  it  wasn't  hereditary  in  the  family.  Jennj^had 
married  him  (and  she,  for  her  part,  never  wanted  him  to 
marr}^  that  child)  but  she  had  her  opinion  about  things.  No  ! 
He  must  be  kept  at  home  ;  she  hadn't  the  means  to  assist  him, 
but  Jenny  had  property,  and  it  must  be  sold  ;  and  being  his 
wife,  it  is  her  duty  to  take  care  of  him. 

She  had  questioned  Maggie,  and  the  girl  had  innocently  be- 
trayed to  the  prying  woman  much  that  Jenn}^  w^ould  rather 
have  been  left  unrevealed. 

She  treated  Harold  with  a  contempt  and  contumely,  really 
more  amusing  to  witness,  than  worthy  of  even  a  passing 
attention. 

Jenny  was  now  getting  able  to  set  up,  and  after  her  recovery 


BLUE  AND  gray:'  117 


was  certain,  Harold  avoided  the  room,  also  making  his  pre- 
sence very  scarce  around  the  premises.  He  had  already 
informed  the  doctor  of  his  intended  departure  on  the  following 
day.  On  this  same  da}^  Mrs.  Frisk  accosted  him  in  no 
gentle  tones,  and  in  a  very  unladylike  manner  in  the  follow- 
ing words  : 

*'  Pray  Mr.  Clinton,  what  interest  have  you  in  my  brother's 
family?  And  who  are  you,  that  3^ou  should  make  your  head- 
quarters here  so  long?  I  have  heard  all  about  you,  sir,  and 
think  the  best  thing  you  can  do  is  to  leave  here  immediately. 
You  are  not  wanted  in  this  house  by  those  who  have  the  right 
to  speak." 

"Thank  you,  madam.  I  intend  to  leave  to-morrow,  and 
have  my  plans  arranged  to  that  effect.  You  are  a  lady — so 
cannot  notice  your  tirade  ;  but  still  madam,  let  me  assure  you, 
that  I  am  fully  aware  who  it  is  in  this  house,  that  has  the  right 
to  speak.''  He  was  letting  his  anger  get  the  better  of  his 
judgment,  so  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked  away,  leaving  the 
enraged  woman  or  virago  lashing  herself  into  a  state  of  frenzy 
little  less  than  that  of  her  brother. 

Yes,  indeed  !  She  was  a  fine  lady,  if  diving,  digging  and 
pr3dng  into  all  of  Harold's  previous  visits  to  her  brother's  home, 
and  all  the  little  meanderings  and  vile  insinutions,  slyly  hinted 
by  the  aspic  tongues  of  the  subtle  gossips,  regarding  his  pri- 
vate affairs,  made  her  one. 

But  now  he  has  gone  I  Yes,  Harold  has  gone,  and  Jenny's 
lieart  sinks  at  the  thought — at  the  word. 

No  other  fond  kiss  electrifies  him  now  !  No  more  kisses 
of  passionate  love,  and  a  blissful  straining  to  his  bosom  to 
frighten  away  her  good  angel;  only  a  few  loving  words  and  a 
"remember  our  oaths,"  and  he  was  gone — gone  to  cross  tTie 
mightv  billow  of  the  broad  Atlantic — (jone  to  embrace  a  dear 
lovmg  mother. 

There  were  those  that  loved  and  missed  him  on  both  sides 
of  that  ocean. 

Little  Charley  was  often  heard  to  say:  "  Oh,  if  Mr.  Hal 
was  here  !  "  and  Lillian  for  da3^s  afer  he  had  left,  would  cry, 
and  call  for  "  HalHe,  HaUie." 


118  ''BLUE  AND  GRA2 


Jenny  is  left  to  fight  out  the  fierce  struggle  as  God  had 
intended  she  should. 

A  few  days  previous  to  Harold's  departure,  the  good  and 
kind  old  doctor  had  called  to  see  Jenny,  and  was  furious  at 
the  idea  of  placing  the  additional  burden  of  a  crazy  man  upon 
her  already  strained  resources  ;  and  in  her  present  state  of 
health,  said  :  *«  It  was  an  outrage.  " 

Harold  was  present,  but  kept  silent ;  but  Jenny  spoke  quickly 
saying  in  a  soft  sweet  tone:  — 

**  Don't  be  fretted  doctor!  I  would  rather  he  be  at  home. 
It  is  my  duty  to  take  care  of  him,  until  God  sees  fit  to  make 
some  change.  I  can  but  put  myself  in  his  place,  and  know  I 
should  think  it  very  cruel  to  be  left  to  the  tender  mercies  of 
entire  strangers.  Do  not  try  to  dissuade  me  from  my  present 
intentions,  but  assist  me  to  do  my  whole  dviXy.  " 

"  Jenny,  you  are  too  good,  poor  child  !  "  and  he  caught  up 
some  of  her  flowing  hair :  See,  Harold  I  I  have  often  heard  of 
fright  turning  one's  hair  white  in  one  night ;  but  now  I  am  sure 
it  is  so.     Jenny  you  are   almost  a  gra3'-headed  old  woman.  " 

'*  It  don't  matter,  doctor.  If  my  poor  boy  could  be  cured,. 
I  could  bear  all  else  ;"  her  feelings  overcame  her,  and  she  wept. 

Tears  also  filled  the  doctor's  eyes,  but  he  quickly  brushed 
them  away  with  a  rough  hand,  while  Harold,  could  bear  no 
more,  but  silently  turned  away  and  caressed  the  pale  little 
object  that  was  gazing  so  intently  out  of  the  window  up  into 
the  white  clouds,  as  they  flitted  along  the  blue  and  crimson 
decked  horizon,  appearing  like  white  sails  crossing  a  sea  of 
gold. 

''  Oh,  look  !  See  Harold  !  See  yonder  Hal !  It  looks  like 
little  angels,  all  in  a  beautiful  white  boat  with  white  sails.  I 
see  so  many  pretty  things  up  there  Hal !  I  do  wish  that  yoa 
and  mamma  would  take  Lillie  and  me  and  go  up  there  and 
sail  with  the  angels." 

'*Dear  little  Charley  I  don't  talk  so,  your  poor  mamma 
will  not  like  it!" 

"  Why  not,  Hal?  Well  we  could  take  Doc.  too.  He  loves 
mamma — but  Maggie  teases  me  ;  I  don't  want  her  to  come." 

The   child  has  high  fever,  thought  Harold,  but  he  said  to 


BL  UE  A ND  GRA  i  ."  119 


him:    '*  Try  to  think  what  a  nice  time  you  will  have  my  little 
man,  riding  on  your  little  pony,  when  you  are  well  again." 

''  You  is  mighty  good  Hal,  to  send  and  gel  mamma's  pretty 
pony  back;  but  I'se  afraid  your  little  Charley  will  never  ride 
him.     But  was'nt  mamma  glad  to  see  him?'' 

**Yes,  Charley.  Your  mother  loves  her  little  Sable,  so 
that  when  I  found  him,  I  placed  him  in  the  care  of  a  good  man 
for  a  time,  and  then  sent  him  to  your  mamma." 

And  thus  it  was  that  Jenny  had  her  pet  pony  **  Sable  '^ 
again. 

Mr.  Bancroft's  other  sister  was  a  rough,  yet  kindly  old  lady, 
with  a  warm  heart  and  tender  feehngs,  quite  the  opposite  of 
her  sister,  Mrs.  Frisk,  and  who  thought  it  her  duty  to  go  and 
assist  Jenny  in  taking  care  of  her  brother,  and  so  she  came, 
but  not  until  her  sister  had  gone  away ;  for  said  she  : 

**I  never  could  endure  AmeHa's  high  falutin  notions  and 
nonsense,  so  I  am  sorry  to  say  we  haven't  spoken  for  two 
years  ;  but  Jenny,  if  she  was  a  little  fool  to  marry  Dick,  is  a 
good  soul,  and  I'll  go  and  help  her." 

So  it  was  settled  that  she  was  to  remain  some  time  with 
Jenny,  and  assist  her  with  the  children  ;  and  being  a  strong, 
hardworking  woman,  relieved  her  sister-in-law  almost,  if  not 
entirely  of  the  care  of  her  deranged  brother. 

Six  months  have  passed  ;  Jenny  has  recovered  her  health 
somewhat,  but  has  as  j-et,  never  seemed  like  her  original  self. 
She  had,  during  this  period,  only  made  one  or  two  visits  to 
the  room,  where  her  husband  was  confined  ;  and  her  presence 
seemed  to  exert  some  strange  influence  over  him  during  the 
short  time  she  would  stay  with  him,  although  he  did  not  seem 
to  recognize  her,  for  when  she  made  the  last  visit,  he  regarded 
her  intently  for  a  few  moments,  then  suddenly  caught  her  in 
his  arms,  saying  gleefully  ;  "  I  love  you  !  Kiss  me  ;  kiss  me  ! 
Snow^-flake,  kiss  me  !  " 

Jenny  screamed,  and  tried  to  get  away,  but  he  held  her  in 
too  tight  a  grasp  for  her  to  do  so,  and  repeated  :  "  Kiss  me  I 
Kiss  me  !  "  when  suddenly  some  one  gave  him  a  heavy  blow 
on  the  cheek,  that  caused  him  to  let  her  go  quickly  and  turn 
savagely  upon  his  aggressor.     But  he  cowered  in  a  moment, 


120  ''  BLUE  A ND  GRA  V. ' ' 

as  soon  as  he  saw  who  had  struck  him.  It  was  his  sister,  for 
she,  upon  hearing  Jenny's  scream  had  hurried  into  the  room. 

"  How  dare  you,  sir  I  "  she  said  sharply  and  sternly.  ''  Go 
back  yonder  at  once,  sir,  and  sit  down."  He  seemed  to  fear 
her,  and  obeyed  instantly. 

Jenny  had  not  forgotten  her  oath,  and  intended  to  keep  it 
to  the  best  of  her  abiUty.  Not  a  sunset  passed  that  she  did 
not  look  out  for  the  star,  and  on  bended  knee  renew  her  vow. 

Winter  was  coming  on  and  she  knew  not  which  way  to  turn 
for  help.  She  found  she  was  poor,  too  poor  to  pay  those 
young  men  to  guard  her  husband  longer.  Her  children  were 
getting  out  of  clothes,  provisions  were  high,  and  she  had  no 
more  money  wherewith  to  buy  anything.  Her  property  was 
gone — scattered  in  every  direction — nothing  left ;  and  to  add  to 
her  trials,  Charley  was  getting  no  better.    What  could  she  do? 

About  this  time  Capt.  Manly  paid  them  a  visit,  and  saw  at  a 
glance  Jenn3''s  present  difficulties.  He  insited  on  the  family 
removing  to  New  Orleans.  For  "  said  he  :  "Maggie  can  then 
complete  her  education  ;  Charley  can  be  placed  under  the  care 
of  the  best  physicians  ;  you  can  place  Mr.  Bancroft  in  a  private 
asylum,  and  you  Mrs.  Bancroft,  can  obtain  a  position  in  one 
of  the  schools  as  Principal  ;  and  to  assist  you  I  will  board 
with  you,  and  do  all  in  my  power  in  carr3'ing  out  my  present 
programme. 

Mrs.  Evans  approved  the  plan  ;  so  did  the  doctor ;  also 
Maggie — although  she  was,  and  had  always  been  a  great 
Rebel,  yet  she  concurred  in  the  present  arrangement.  Jenny 
said  it  made  no  difference  to  her — although  she  approved  of 
the  arrangement — but  her  chief  reason  for  approving  was, 
*'  that  perhaps  her  boy  might  be  entirely  cured."  And  thus 
it  was  finally  agreed  upon  and  arranged,  that  the  whole  family, 
with  the  exception  of  Mrs.  Evans,  should  remove  to  the  city  ; 
and  Manly  was  to  make  all  the  necessary  arrangements  there 
for  them  and  for  their  comfort  after  their  arrival.  It  did  not 
require  much  persuasion  to  get  the  good  old  doctor  to  accom- 
pany them  for  a  short  visit,  saying  "  M}^  child  cannot  get 
along  without  me  "  but  Mrs.  Evans,  said — 

**  No  money  could  pay  her  to  go  to  a  dirty  old  city." 


BLUE  AND  gray: 


121 


Maggie  had  been  right  shy  in  the  society  of  Manly,  but  at 
last  he  had  an  opportunity  and  asked  her,  '*  If  she  hadn't 
known  him  long  enough  to  learn  to  love  a  Yankee,  and  could 
she  give  him  a  little  satisfaction  in  regard  to  the  future?" 
She  answered  : 

'*That  she  despised  Yankees,  and  wasn't  going  to  give 
satisfaction  to  any  man,  she  cared  not  who  or  what  he  was, 
until  women  could  vote  as  well  as  '  niggers  '."  And  that  was 
all  the  satisfaction  he  could  get  for  the  time  being.  "Ah, 
well !"  said  he  to  himseif,  "  have  patience  !  I  can  wait  I  time 
will  conquer." 


[:iriirTT;u:xirij_ijLjxxxixigTiixjxii.i.i-^^>^iinixm_u.-Li,, 

'■  iji  5J( i^i  W i;:j  '(iXi  "c_"S  i;j  i\i  Vi  Ij  {>'  cji  i;i  "c>'  C)  '0  'Ci  'a  'ii  Li  \i  ii  Ci  Vi  i>'  ij  tj  : 


CHAPITER    XX. 


Home"  is  where  the  heart's  at  peace, 

Where  love  is  all  supreme; 
Where  soul  meets  soul,  and  joys  increase, 

Where  love  is  not  a  dream. 

"  Mother!  "  what  magic  in  the  sound 

Of  that  dear  blessed  name; 
It  makes  the  heart-strings  to  resound 

With  thanks  to  God,  for  having  given 
A  mother's  love — first-fruits  of  Heaven, 

And  sparks  of  Heavenlv  flame. 


IP^.OME  and  Mother  !  "  The  two  sweetest  words  in  the 
English  language.  With  them  are  combined  Heaven 
and  God  — where  so  many  weary  and  footsore  travel- 
lers hope  to  reach  :  hope  I  yes,  will  reach  and  find  a  home  ; 
and  a  mother  gone  before — ever  waiting  and  watching  tor  her 
loved  ones  left  behind. 

But  the  home  of  which  we  are  about  to  write,  is  an  Eng- 
lish HOME — a  beautiful  Earthly  Paradise. 

Two  ladies,  most  elegantly  dressed,  are  occupants  of  an 
exquisitely  decorated  and  richly  furnished  apartment  or  draw- 
ing room,  in  a  palatial  residence  in  the  loveliestpart — the  gar- 
den spot  of  England  :   KetsT. 

The  eldest  lady  was  of  tall  and  commanding  presence. 
She  wore  a  heav}^  Hlac  satin,  trimmed  w^ith  real  black  lace  of 
very  fine  texture,  which  was  arranged  into  points  and  forming 
three  full  flounces,  almost  hiding  the  full  skirt  that  trailed  on 
the  rich  Brussels  carpet,  as  she  crossed  the  room,  and  sank 
languidly  into  a  velvet  cushioned  fauteuil,  or  easy  chair.  A 
portion  of  the  same  rich  black  lace,  trimmed  the  large- 
sleeves,  and  the  half-open  boddice. 

Her  hair — rich  and  black — yet  sprinkled  with  silvery  gray 
— was  combed  back  into  one  large  braid  and  coiled  upon   the 


BLUE  AND  GRA7:'  123 


back  of  her  head,  supported  by  a  diamond  pin,  and  display- 
ing a  forehead,  in  which  intellect  and  a  strong  will  were  most 
prominent. 

No  otherc  rnament  save  iheglittering  diamond  cluster  on  lier 
third  finger  of  left  hand — and  a  brooch  of  same  on  her 
bosom.  Her  appearance  was  that  of  a  lady  about  fortv  years 
of  age — while  in  fact  she  was  over  fifty. 

Standing  at  one  of  the  windows,  and  partially  hid  by  the 
rich  damascened  curtains,  was  a  beautiful  girl  of  about 
eighteen  or  twenty  years;  she  had  golden  curls  and  eyes  of 
azure  hue  \  slie  wore  a  pale  blue  silk,  with  an  overdress  of 
blue  gauze,  caught  up  and  fastened  by  a  silver  spray  :  her 
only  ornament  beside  being  a  piece  of  silver  spray  of  the 
same  pattern,  holding  back  the  flowing  curls  from  her  sweet 
oval  face. 

She  was  gazing  thoughtfully  out  on  the  grand  old  park  that 
stretched  away  to  her  right  while  at  a  short  distance  from  the 
left  could  be  seen  a  large  rivulet,  or  small  river,  upon  whose 
bank,  and  under  the  shade  of  two  grand  old  elms  nestled  a 
cozy  looking  boat-house  ;  between  the  river  and  residence,  a 
miniature  lake,  in  the  centre  of  which  was  a  fanciful  quaint 
looking  fountain  that  threw  its  crystal  waters  from  the  mouths 
of  three  amphitrites  upon  its  bosom,  and  upon  which  grace- 
fully moved  a  pair  of  snow-white  swans  ;  while  at  its  brink 
came  the  pet  deer,  fawn  and  antelope,  to  quench  their 
thirst. 

Two  graceful  curves,  bordered  by  tall  oaks,  reach  out  in 
the  distance,  gradually  winding  until  they  meet  at  some  dis- 
tance in  front  of  the  house,  and  at  the  lodge  gate  ;  at  the  side 
of  which  was  a  snug  Httle  lodge — also  shaded  by  majestic 
oaks. 

It  was  in  that  direction  that  the  riveted  gaze  of  the  voung 
girl  seemed  bent ;  she  had  been  standing  for  some  time"^  quite 
motionless,  when  the  elder  lad}^  broke  the  silence  that  had 
become  monotonous,  saying : 

"  Na3s  Eva  love  !  Do  not  weary  yourself.  Come  and  sit 
by  me  child,  and  let  us  again  read  our  truant's  last  letter.  My 
noble  boy  !     I  cannot  imagine  any  inducement  he  could  pos- 


124  ''  BL UE  A ND  GRA  2 V ' 

sibly  find  over  in  that  half  heathen  land  to  detain  him  so  long. 
He  was  greatly  interested  in  that  civil  war,  and  his  heart 
strangely  warmed  to  the  Southern  cause,  and  in  his  letters, 
always  anxious  that  we,  that  is  England,  should  pecognize  the 
Confederacy.  But  now  all  of  that  trouble  is  over,  I  hope  he 
will  return  and  remain  at  home.  Ah,  Eva,  dear!  He  will 
hardly  recognize  3'ou,  you  have  grown  so,  and  are  so  beauti- 
ful. Don't  blush,  dear!  It  will  do  no  harm  to  tell  a  timid 
creature  like  you  that  is  so  void  of  egotism  or  self  appreci- 
ation, that  you  are  fair ;  and  I  shall  depend  upon  you  to  use 
your  utmost  endeavors  and  skill  in  charming  my  boy  to  his 
home,  and  to  those  who  love  him  so  dearl}- .  He  is  too  fond 
of  rambling  around  the  world,  and  I  wish  him  to  settle  down 
and  marr}^  if  his  fastidious  taste  can  be  suited." 

"  Perhaps  he  will  bring  a  lady  with  him,  aunt ;  or  he  may 
have  found  some  one  in  his  travels  to  suit  his  taste." 

"  I  do  not  anticipate  an3'thing  of  the  kind,  Eva.  Harold 
is  rather  peculiar — has  a  high  notion  of  honor — and  a  taste 
no  common  woman  could  satisfy  ;  therefore  she  will  be  an 
exceptional  creature  who  wins  his  affections,  and  I  scarcely 
think  he  would  allow  himself  to  become  infatuated  with  any 
but  a  lad}^  of  very  high  standing  and  of  his  own  nationality, 
and  I  should  be  much  dissatisfied  if  it  were  otherwise.  But 
it  is  getting  late  !  Ring  the  bell,  Eva:  and  summon  John  to 
order  round  the  carriage  ;  we  may  as  well  be  going  as  Sir 
John  and  Lady  Lyle  expect  us  early." 

A  few  moments  later  a  handsome  carriage  bearing  upon  its 
panels  the  Clinton  coat  of  arms,  with  a  driver  dressed  in  the 
family  livery,  rolled  around  to  the  principal  entrance  ;  and  the 
two  ladies  descended  the  marble  staircase,  followed  by  two 
maids  bearing  their  ladies  heavy  velvet  wrappings,  and  w^ere 
helped  to  their  seats  in  carriage  by  the  footman  or  lackey 
that  was  in  attendance  to   perform  that  duty  to   her  highness. 

About  an  hour  after,  and  just  as  a  gorgeous  sunset  was 
flashing  an  adieu,  as  heralding  the  coming  night,  a  fly  dashed 
up  to  the  lodge  gate,  passed  in,  winding  its  way  to  the  same 
entrance. 


''  BLUE  AND  gray:'  125 

This  carriage  contained  one  occupant  only,  and  he  gazed 
around  with  a  pleasant  smile  and  increased  interest. 

"And  this  is  home,  sweet,  sweet  home.  My  home  if  I 
chose.  How  beautiful !  In  ail  my  travels  and  wanderings  I 
have  not  seen  any  more  so  ;  and  yet,  no  joyful  sound  reaches 
my  ear  from  its  marble  heart.  No  mocking  birds  around,  no 
prattling  voices  ;  all  seems  serenely  calm  and  still,  as  the 
abode  of  death,  all  appears  cold  and  distant,  with  that  stately 
proud  look,  that  reminds  me  of  my  mother,  her  iron  will,  and 
her  pride.  'Tis  true  she  has  a  right  to  be  proud  of  our  an- 
cestors, but — pshaw!  Well,  here  I  am,  home  at  last  I  But 
Jenny,  dear  Jenny;  at  home  or  abroad,  I'll  seek  out  our  star, 
and  waft  you  a  God's  blessing  on  evening's  dewy  breath." 

Notwithstanding  Harold's  meditations  and  silent  thoughts 
of  his  silent  looking  home,  there  was  life  within,  and  some 
one  must  have  seen  his  approach,  for  many  of  the  old  servants 
came  foith  to  welcome  him  home  ;  but  neither  mother  or 
brother  were  there  to  receive  and  welcome  their  long  absent 
loved  one. 

"Welcome  'ome  mister  x\rold — welcome  'ome  !  my  lady  will 
be  grieved  that  she  left  'ome,  hand  you  come  so  hunhexpected  ; 
she  'as  gone  to  Sir  John  and  Lady  Lyle's,  hand  your  cousin 
Miss  Heva  hime  sure  never  hexpected  you  this  hevening,  but 
we,  Annah  hand  myself,  will  make  you  has  comfortable  has 
possible,  huntil  my  lady  and  Miss  Heva  come  back. 

"  Well  John,  you  say  that  my  mother  did  not  expect  me  so 
soon — then  where  is  my  brother  Wllber?  " 

"  'Is  Lordship's  bin  gone  these  two  weeks,  but  my  lady  'as 
wrote  to  'im  that  you  was  a  coming  hand  hexpected  soon  and 
hi  hexpect  ee'l  be  'ome  hin  the  morning,  my  lady  thought 
yott  d  harrive  about  the  tenth." 

"  All  right  I'll  make  myself  at  home  ;  I'm  as  hungry  as  a 
wolf,  and  will  take  something  substantial  for  my  supper,  but 
I  suppose  I  will  have  to  call  it  dinner  to  be  in  fashion  here.  I 
wish,  and  would  like  a  bath  in  the  old  way.  Is  everything  in 
the  usual  style?  " 

"  Yes  sir.  Hif  hanythtng  my  lord  his  getting  to  be  more 
particular  than  hever.     Hi'll   show  the  way,  hand  then  hi'll 


126  ''BLUB  AND  GRAY 


come  back  hand  harrange  your  wardrobe.  But  where  his 
your  baggage  Mr.  iVrold,  you've  not  left  hit  beind  ave  you 
sir?" 

"  No  John,  all  my  baggage  is  in  that  valise,  that  I  travelled 
or  came  home  with,  but  I'll  soon  replenish  everything,  so  that 
everything  will  soon  be  all  right,"  adding  mentally,  ''  become 
the  English  gentleman  once  more,  no  longer  the  poor  Con- 
federate." 

Supper,  or  rather  v/ith  the  aristocrats,  dinner  being  over, 
Harold  amused  himself  by  going  over  th«i  scenes  of  his  boy- 
hood days  and  amusements  ;  yet  thoughts  of  Louisiana, and  one 
of  her  stricken  families  would  intrude  itself  and  hold  the  most 
prominent  place. 

Without  his  knowledge,  John,  the  servant,  had  at  once  dis- 
patched the  news  of  his  arrival  to  lady  Clinton,  and  not  long 
after  dark,  carriage  wheels  were  again  heard,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  more,  our  hero  was  pressed  in  the  loving  and  warm 
embrace  of  a  fond  mother. 

"At  last  m}^  son,  at  last  I  Oh,  how  pleased  I  am  that  3'Ou 
have  come  back  to  your  mother  !  Ah,  how  changed  you  are  1 
You  are  taller  and  handsomer  than  Wilber  now." 

"  Speaking  of  brother.    •  Is  he  not  yet  married  mother?  " 

*'  No  ni}^  son  !    Nor  does  he  seem  to  be  so  inclined." 

"  I  thought  by  the  tone  of  one  of  your  letters,  mother,  that 
the  choice  had  been  made.  Did  you  not  say  something  re- 
garding the  gentle  lady  Geneva  Bering  becoming  3^our 
daughter?" 

''  Yes,  I  believe  I  did  !  That  reminds  me.  Where  can  Eva 
be?"    She  touched  a  silver  bell  and  her  maid  appeared. 

"Inform  Lady  Geneva  that  we  desire  her  presence.  She  is 
a  sweet  girl,  my  son,  but  so  timid;  a  lovely,  sensitive  plant, 
and  of  noble  lineage." 

The  young  lady  in  question,  now  came  in,  and  advanced 
shyly  toward  Harold. 

"Your  cousin  Harold — Eva.     Harold,  kiss  your  cousin." 

Instead  of  doing  so,  Harold  drew  back.  A  cold  shiver 
passed  over  his  frame.  The  sweet  girl  looked  up  timidly,  as 
Harold  said  hastily — 


BLUE  AND  gray:'  127 


"  Lad}^  Eva  would  deem  me  guilty  of  disrespect,  or  forget- 
ful of  that  we  were  no  longer  children,  mother,  were  I  to  take 
so  great  a  liberty." 

"x\nd  what  are  3^ou  but  children,  pray?  My  children,  both 
of  you  !  And  I  wish  you  to  be  the  best  of  friends.  I  insist 
that  you  renew  your  friendship  by  kissing  your  old  playmate." 

"I  cannot!  I  dare  not,  mother!  I  do  not  wish  to  anger 
you  on  this,  the  first  evening  of  my  visit  home,  and  the  Lady 
Geneva  will  speak  for  herself,  I  am  sure." 

'•  My  dear  aunt !  Cousin  Harold  is  right.  We  are  no  longer 
children,  and  both  you  and  I  should  consider  how  to  make 
his  first  evening  at  home  the  most  pleasant  of  anj^of  his  life." 

Her  voice  trembled,  and  Harold  could  not  but  think — how 
beautiful — and  that  it  would  be  no  great  sacrifice  to  kiss  so 
lovely  a  creature.  But  the  "two  oaths"  flashed  athwart  his 
mind,  bathing  him  amid  the  sweeping  surf  of  thought ;  thoughts 
of  her  he  loved — wrongfully  it  might  be — but  still,  better  than 
all  the  v/orld. 

We  cannot  dwell  for  an}^  length  of  time  with  Harold  in  his 
ancestral  home,  for  our  chosen  path  is  among  the  orange- 
groves,  the  magnolia  trees,  and  the  clime  of  the  mocking-bird's 
home 

Suffice  it  to  say,  that  Lady  Clinton  had  fixed  her  heart  upon 
the  marriage  of  her  youngest  and  favorite  son,  with  Geneva 
Bering,  an  heiress,  and  Harold's  own  cousin. 

Lady  Clinton  was  of  the  Protestant  faith — an  Episcopalian  ; 
very  charitable  to  the  poor,  a  most  excellent  lady,  but  of  strong 
will  and  domineering  disposition,  and  many,  and  hard  w^ere 
the  contests  between  herself  and  Harold,  before  she  could 
resign  all  hopes  of  her  cherished  wish  being  accompHshed. 

The  young  girl  had  been  taught  to  love  Harold,  and  he  wit- 
nessed with  pain,  her  vain  endeavors  to  hide  her  feehngs,  and 
not  to  betray  the  true  state  of  her  heart.  Each  day  he  became 
more  and  more  convinced,  that  it  was  better  for  him  to  be 
away. 

His  brother  being  the  eldest,  was  Lord  of  the  Manor,  and 
our  hero  only  a  younger  son,  an  Enghsh  gentleman  of  leisure, 
any  plenty  of  means. 


128  '' BLUE  AND  GRAl 


His  home  was  beautiful,  but  it  had  no  charms  that  suited 
his  rambhng  and  restless  disposition.  He  loved- his  mother, 
but  would  not  submit  tamely  to  her  ideas  of  what  was  most 
respectable  and  true  aristocratic,  or  her  notions  of  w^hat  should, 
and  what  must  be  done. 

So  we  leave  him  planning  in  his  own  mind  his  future  course, 
while  even  then,  the  hands  of  fate  were  reaching  out  and 
leading  him  to  his  destiny. 

And  while  he  is  planning,  we  will  open  the  pages  of  the 
past  and  snatch  from  them  a  brief  outline  of  the  last  few 
years  of  his  Hfe — previous  to  the  opening  chapter  of  the 
present  narrative.  So  dear  reader  your  patience  a  while  and 
we  will  proceed. 

A  few  years  after  Harold  Clinton  had  finished  his  collegi- 
ate course  at  Oxford,  he  had  an  uncontrollable  desire  to  study 
medicine  and  surger}-,  and  of  becoming  both  physician  and 
surgeon.  He  entered  a  medical  college,  studied  closely,  and 
in  a  few  years  passed  a  successful  examination  and  received 
his  diploma.  Then  thoughts  of  travel  filled  his  mind.  He 
went  to  the  East  in  search  of  knowledge  combined  with 
pleasure.  Visited  Italy  and  beheld  its  far-famed  sunsets,  and 
while  in  that  sunny  clime,  visited  the  "  Eternal  City  ;'  that 
city,  that  had  haunted  his  mind  since  the  time  of  his  plodding 
school-days,  when  he  drank  deep  from  the  great  minds  of 
her  best  scholars  and  masters.  Saw  the  "  CoHseum "  b}^ 
moonlight,  and  stood  in  w^ondrous  awe  beneath  its  shadows  ; 
passed  on  to  Switzerland's  snow  peaked  towers,  and  then 
still  on,  and  climbed  the  loftiest  summit  of  the  Tj-rol.  Then 
to  Germany,  and  saw  '  Hans  mit  mine  frow '  in  the  beer  gar- 
dens, and  happy  families  smiling  him  a  welcome  to  their 
homely  and  innocent  pleasures.  He,  too,  bore  a  part  in  the 
<'  Crimean  War  "  as  an  assistant  surgeon.  Had  drink  coffee 
with  the  Turk,  and  had  also  been  presented  to  the  '  Czar  of 
all  the  Russias.'  After  peace  was  proclaimed  between  the 
Allied  Powers  and  Russia — and  while  still  in  that  country — he 


resigned  his  commission  as  assistant  surgeon,  so  that  he 
might  continue  his  travels,  and  have  entire  freedom  of  ac- 
tion.    Having  visited  St.  Petersburg  and  other  importantRus- 


BLUE  AND  GRAY 


129 


sian  cities — he  still  went  on— steamed  down  the  Volga, 
crossed  the  Caspian  Sea,  on  through  Turkestan  and  the  Chi- 
nese Empire,  and  set  sail  from  Canton  for  the  United  States 
of  America,  landing  at  San  Francisco.  Here  he  became  so 
taken  up  with  the  fine  prospect,  and  some  rich  lands,  that  he 
determined  to  purchase  the  same,  having  considerable  means 
at  command,  purchased  a  large  tract.  He  built  a  fine  resi- 
dence and  it  was  while  making  improvements  on  said  build- 
ing the  "  civil  war"  broke  out.  He  had  formed  the  acquaint- 
ance, and  had  grown  quite  intimate  with  a  family  whose 
former  home  had  been  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  noted  and 
celebrated  '  Teche  '  country  in  Louisiana,  and  who  cherished 
and  still  fondly  loved  their  native  State,  it  being  their  con- 
stant theme — her  beauty — her  hospitable  hearts,  the  beauti- 
ful Creoles,  etc.,  etc.,  until  Harold's  curiosity  w^as  excited. 

He  would  leave  his  Eureka,  and  visit  Louisiana  through  the 
Lone  Star ;  would  ramble  to  gather  of  her  Prairie  Flow- 
ers, then  over  her  border  and  take  a  peep  into  the  sorely  af- 
flicted heart  of  the  brave  Pelican. 

He  would  view  attentively  her  young  men,  her  dark-e3^ed 
daughters,  and  her  beautiful  flowers. 

While  travelling  through  the  ''Lone  Star,"  he  fell  into  the 
society  of  two  gentlemen  that  were  workmg  for  the  Southern 
cause,  and  for  Louisiana  in  particular.  His  generous  nature 
was  aroused.  He  was  brave— loved  adventure  ;  therefore, 
under  certain  conditions  agreed  upon  and  signed  by  a  certain 
colonel,  he  joined  a  little  band  en  route  for  Louisiana.  He 
had  a  decided  preference  for  the  sober  gray,  therefore, 
adopted  it  to  please  his  taste.  He  determined  to  conceal  his 
noble  birth,  and  not  reveal  to  any,  who  and  what  he  was,  so 
that  he  might  the  better  study,  unquestioned,  the  nature  of 
the  civil  war,  and  penetrate  to  the  fount,  the  real  cause  of 
Secession  ;  also  to  read  the  best  zvork  on  human  nature  at  the 
same  time. 

And  having  attended  him  thus  far,  we  will  leave  him  for  a 
short  space,  and  see  what  has  become  of  his  Louisiana 
friends. 

9 


TTrrirTtTTiTiiTiriTinTtiitTrTTtrTTTTTTiTTiTT 


CHAPTER  XXI 


"  Within  that  land  was  many  a  malcontent 
Who  cursed  the  tyranny  to  which  he  bent, 
That  soil  full  many  a  wringing  despot  saw, 
Who  worked  his  wantonness  in  form  of  law. 
Long  war  without,  and  frequent  broil  within 
Had  made  a  path  for  blood  and  giant  sin. 
That  waited  but  a  signal  to  begin 
New  havoc,  such  as  civil  discord  blinds 
Which  knows  no  neuter,  owns  but  foes  or  friends." 

^HOSE  born,  raised  and  accustomed  from  infancy  to  man 
^ft  or  womanhood,  to  the  country  with  its  pure  fresh  air, 
^j  its  beautiful  sunsets,  and  its  stillness,  its  wild  flowers 
and  hone}'^  bees,  its  free  and  happy  singing  birds,  its  variegated 
butterflies,  and  aU  the  free  gifts  bestowed  from  a  bountiful 
source  by  a  loving  and  generous  Father's  hands — to  shut 
them  within  the  walls  of  a  great  city,  with  its  impure  air 
breathed  over  and  over  again  by  thousands  ;  in  man}^  places 
poor  creatures  living  in  low  damp  cellars,  where  scarcely  a 
sunbeam  with  its  generous  brightness  never  takes  a  peep  ;  its 
incessant  and  discordant  hubbub  and  din,  from  those  hurry- 
ing and  scurrying,  rushing  and  pushing  mortals — it  would  be 
like  thrusting  or  confining  them  in  a  loathsome  prison.  No 
wild  flowers  for  frolicsome  children  to  gather  ;  no  honey-bee, 
except  the  human  bee,  plodding,  working  to  gather  in  their 
store  of  bread  and  honey  wherewith  to  fill  the  mouths  of  a 
sometime  starving  family  ;  to  pamper  the  self-indulgence  of 
the  rich,  or  lead  into  temptation's  by-paths.  Occupations  of 
all  kinds,  from  the  gathering  of  wax  and  honey,  and  filling 
the  cells  of  the  human  hive,  sometimes  with  misery,  at  other 
times  with  joy — sometimes  with  evil,  and  then  again  with 
good. 


BLUE  AND  gray:'  131 


There  are  no  free  singing  birds,  very  few  butterflies,  save 
the  female  btitterjiy^  gliding  along  the  banquette,  meeting  the 
grassJio-pfers^  counter-hoppers  or  jumpers,  etc.,  all  mingling 
in  one  continuous  and  constant  whirl  amid  the  temptations  of 
the  most  gorgeous  displays  of  man's  ingenuity,  while  the  air 
reeks  with  the  smell  of  ten  thousand  scents,  some  of  them 
anything  but  odoriferous,  while  others  scuffle  to  lift  their 
sweet  perfume  upon  the  sickly  breeze  that  frolics  among  the 
house-tops,  and  anon  darts  down  and  steals  along  an  open 
street,  catching  up  the  mingled  scents  in  one  vast  mass,  then 
carrying  the  whole  as  in  a  whirlwind  to  the  clouds,  where 
they  are  purified  and  returned  to  the  suffering  city,  and  pat- 
ter, patter  upon  the  roofs  and  house-tops,  down  the  many 
streets,  washing  away  the  filth  and  dirt,  smoke  and  dust  that 
had  accumulated  and  hung  around  since  the  last  visit  of  its 
sister's  pattering  feet. 

And  yet  the  city  has  its  charms  and  enchantments,  especi- 
ally to  the  city  bred.  There  too,  the  fond  mother  sings  lulla- 
bys  to  her  baby  as  she  gently  taps  the  cradle  with  her  slip- 
pered foot,  keeping  time  to  the  rocking  vvith  the  babe's' 
favorite  air. 

Even  the  country  bred  find  pleasure,  when  on  a  short  visit 
to  friends,  or  a  few  weeks  stay  at  some  first-class  hotel ;  for 
instance,  the  old  and  palatial  St.  Charles  ;  also  the  South- 
erner's favorite,  the  almost  home  of  many  a  Reb,  the  Cit}' 
Hotel;  both  of  New  Orleans. 

Many  go  to  view  the  sights,  while  others  go  for  business 
alone.  But  give  us  the  country  with  its  green  fields,  green 
leaves,  fresh  air  and  refreshing  breezes;  yes,  and  rustic 
clowns,  for  we  love  nature,  and  God's  own  handiwork  better 
than  all  else. 

A  trip  to  the  country  is  also  a  pleasure  to  the  city  bred. 
It  gives  them  an  opportunity  to  see  '  Old  Sol '  full  in  the  face 
and  bathe  to  their  heart's  content  in  his  generous  rays,  while 
their  children  may  gambol  among  the  wild  flowers,  inhaling 
the  pure  fresh  air,  and  partake  of  the  milk  and  honey  found 
there,  both  flavored  with  the  extract  of  the  sweet  white  clover. 
It  renews  their  strength,  and  tints  their  cheeks  with  a  health- 


132  '' BLUE  AND  gray: 

ier  hue,  it  brightens  the  eye,  and  the  languid  step  becomes 
more  elastic — it  gives  the  laugh  a  more  joyous  ring,  proving 
the  heart  less  burdened,  and  the  mind  clear  of  the  stifling 
sensations  of  the  darkness,  and  temptation's  whirl — cf  life 
and  life's  changes. 

Jenny  and  her  children  longed  for  the  country,  and  sighed 
for  its  life  invigorating  smiles,  and  for  a  pleasant  trip,  which 
they  were  planning  to  make  to  kind  Aunt  Betty  Evans. 

Even  Magg3%  that  loved  a  city  life  exceedingly  well  for  a 
country  girl,  talked  of  the  expected  trip  with  pleasure. 

Capt.  Fred.  Manly,  had  proved  himself  a  devoted  unsefiish 
friend  to  this  afflicted  Southern  family,  his  heart  was  warm, 
and  he  was  generous  even  to  a  fault  in  his  dealings  with  them  ; 
he  had  assisted  them  in  many  ways  of  which  even  Jenny  had 
not  the  slightest  suspicion  ;  for  instance,  in  filling  a  bill,  and 
which  he  often  insisted  on  doing,  he  would  have  it  made  out 
in  far  less  figures  than  he  actually  paid.  He  pretended  that 
he  wanted  to  study  music,  and  rented  a  piano  for  that  pur- 
pose; while,  in  fact  it  was  solety  for  Jenn}^  and  Maggy's  use. 
'  The  last  named  was  still  a  wayward  child,  but  sumewhat 
inclined  to  coquetry,  and  grew  daily  more  in  love  with  her 
native  State,  and  bitter  towards  its  enemies.  On  one  occasion 
in  passing  along  the  banquette  a  negro  woman  rough,  and  brazen 
reeking  with  the  perfume  that  seems  theirs  as  a  gift  (dressed  in 
most  gaudy  attire),  gave  Maggie  a  sudden  push  in  passing,  that 
sent  her  reeling  into  the  gutter.  The  3^oung,  proud  and  hot 
blooded  Southern  girl  could  ill  brook  such  daring  impudence, 
and  as  she  gained  her  balance,  in  a  violent  rage  (for  shame  to 
say,  standing  sniggering,  instead  of  stepping  forward  like  true 
gentlemen,  were  two  who  certainly  disgraced  the  far  famed 
Bhte^  seeming  to  not  have  the  slightest  spark  of  honor)  she 
quickly  noting  their  smile,  sprang  toward  the  negress  and  soiled 
her  white  hand  that  little  hand,  so  prized  by  that  nohle  one 
in  Blue — Capt.  F.  Manly)  by  a  retaliation,  consisting  of  two 
quick  slaps  across  the  black  cheek  of  the  sham  lady,  and  as 
quickly  darted  out  of  reach  of  the  blow  the  black  wench 
aimed  at  her. 

The  two  who  dishonored  the  Blue  finally  came  to  the  rescue,. 


BLUE  AND  gray:'  133 


but  not  to  the  beautiful  pure  white  rose,  with  its  crimson 
cheek,  but  to  the  sweet  scented(  ?)black,  who  yelled  at 
highest  pitch  of  voice  resembling  tones  of  our  southern  bull- 
frog, '*  P'lice  !  P'Hce  !  ah  kill  dat  white  gal,"  making  use  of 
other  language  too  indecent  for  these  pages,  or  most  obscene 
pen  to  write^  much  less  uttered  on  a  public  street,  where  refined 
ladies  and  gentlemen  with  innocent  children  were  constantly 
passing  and  repassing.  The  two  admirers  of  the  black  highly 
scented  rose,  followed  Maggie  as  if  to  detain  her,  saying, 
**  Not  quite  so  fast,  my  fine  Miss,  you'll  wait  for  the  police, 
and  go  to  the  station  house,  and  we'll  bear  witness,  for  we 
saw  you  slap  that  lady  in  the  face."  Maggie  angry  and  un- 
daunted answered:  "How  dare  you  interfere  with  me? 
I  think  if  you  had  one  spark  of  manliness  you  would  not  have 
stood  smiling  to  see  me  insulted  by  a  gross  negress  ;"  and 
turning  scornfully  away,  she  beheld  a  friend  advancing  in  the 
form  of  a  Federal  officer.  Capt.  Manly's  former  Colonel,  a 
visiting  acquaintance  of  the  family;  as  soon  as  he  approached 
the  other  blue  coats  skulked  away. 

"  Goodness,  gracious.  Miss  Maggie  !  What  is  the  matter? 
What  were  those  fellows  saying  to  you?  Did  they  offer  you 
an}^  insult?" 

''  No,  not  exactly ;  come  on,  and  I  will  tell  you." 

"But,  Miss  Maggie!" 

"  Please^  come  Colonel ;  walk  fast !" 

She  spoke  so  vehernently,  with  expression  of  anxiety,  that 
her  companion  and  preserver  obeyed  without  further  demur, 
intuitively  surmising  that  she  wished  to  get  out  of  that  vicinity. 
After  several  blocks  were  passed,  she  became  less  agitated, 
then  informed  the  Colonel  what  had  transpired.  Instead  of 
becoming  indignant  as  she  had  expected,  he  laughed  heartily 
and  answered — "I  believe  I'll  have  you  arrested.  Miss  Maggie, 
ior  assault  and  battery  on  a  colored  lady."  This  but  added 
fuel  to  the  flame.  Becoming  more  furious,  she  turned  ab- 
ruptly and  left  him,  saying,  as  she  did  so — 

"  I  know  that  you  are  not  in  earnest  in  what  you  say,  but 
from  this  da}^  I  despise  yoti^  and  all  other  Yankees  more  than 
•ever." 


134  '' BLUE  AND  gray: 


We  do  not  believe  this  little  episode  ever  became  public^ 
there  happening  no  newspaper  reporter  around  just  then,  and 
for  a  w^onder,  the  "Examination  Committee"  or  Commis- 
sioner, never  ferretted  it  out,  to  swell  the  list  of  cruelties 
practiced  or  committed  on  the  poor  maltreated  (?)  race^ 
"Eliza  Pinkston"  sells  "Ku-Klux"  cruelties,  which  did 
their  part  in  stuffing  of  the  ballot-box,  furnishing  a  slight 
amusement  for  the  renowned  ( ?)  "  Louisiana  Returning 
Board." 

And  yet,  were  we  to  mention  all  of  the  insults  endured  by 
the  families  of  the  Gray  at  that  period,  which  came  under 
our  personal  observation,  and  knowledge  otherwise,  we  might 
till  a  volume  larger  than  any  yet  published,  showing  forth 
Louisiana  and  her  former  slaves. 

But  thank  God,  there  were^  and  still  are  Federal  soldiers- 
with  feeling  hearts — some  noble,  as  brave,  who  wore  the 
"  Blue,"  and  who  still  wear  the  "  Blue" — who,  to  their  best 
ability  protected,  and  still  protect  the  loved  ones  of  the 
"Fallen  Gray,  as  well  as  those  of  the  "  Discarded  Gray." 
Honor  them,  my  countrymen,  and  you,  my  countrywomen, 
weave  a  wreath  of  laurel  and  twine  with  olive  to  decorate 
their  noble  brows,  for  though  contending  for  what  M<?y  deemed 
right  in  their  country's  cause,  they  were  men  of  honor  ;  not 
thcn^  nor  will  they  nozv^  join  hands  with  those  who  wave  the 
bloody  flag,  who  insulted,  and  if  in  their  power  would,  even 
to-day,  exterminate  the  pure  blood  of  the  sunny  South. 

All  honor  to  the  noble  enem}^ !  cry  out  the  whole  South. 

There  were  some  good  negroes  too,  many  who  loved  and 
clung  to  "  old  massa  "  and  "  old  missus  "  and  "  dem  little 
childrens."  We  too,  loved  our  old  black  "  mammies,"  our 
nurses,  and  little  wooly  headed  playmates,  and  in  some  cases 
there  was  unquestioned  devotion — for,  of  course,  there  are 
exceptions  in  all  cases.  ....... 

Through  Manly's  influence,  Jenny,  after  some  weeks  in 
the  city,  obtained  a  situation  as  teacher  in  one  of  the  high 
schools,  and  fortunately  their  little  home  was  but  a  few 
blocks  from  the  school  to  which  she  was  appointed,  so  that 
she  was  not  compelled  to  be  a  great  distance  from  her  chil- 


BLUE  AND  GRAVr  135- 


dren.  Little  Charley  was  a  great  favorite  with  their  neighbors^ 
and  many  tendered  kindly  the  service  of  watching  over  both 
children.  Upon  the  arrival  of  the  family  in  the  city,  the  most- 
noted,  experienced  physician  was  consulted  ;  he  advised,  and 
with  the  unanimous  consent  of  family  performed  a  shght 
operation.  Many  days  the  Httle  sufferer  lay  between  life  and 
death,  but  at  last  the  vital  spark  became  reanimated  and  he 
slowly  improved,  and  was  just  beginning  to  get  about  by  the 
use  of  a  little  crutch  that  Manly  had  given  him,  when  Jenny 
was  notified  of  opening  of  said  school ;  so  that  she  was  com-^ 
pelled  to  leave  him,  with  Lillian,  to  kind  care  of  neighbors,  and 
especial  charge  of  a  faithful  serving  woman — a  warm  hearted 
German  that  had  lost  her  husband  during  the  war. 

Mr.  Bancroft  had  been  placed  in  a  private  asylum,  and  not 
one  of  his  family  had  desired  to  behold  the  wreck  since  their 
arrival ;  however,  at  Jenny's  repeated  solicitation.  Manly  had 
made  several  visits,  and  repeated  inquiries  concerning  his 
condition.  The  inquiries  elicited  the  oft  repeated  answer, 
*'  No  better  !    Just  about  the  same,  at  times  ungovernable." 

But  winter  had  now  passed — bright  spring  had  come  and 
gone — and  summer  was  on  the  wane. 

Charley  had  not  improved  as  rapidly  as  anticipated. 

Lillian  had  become  thin  and  pale.  Jenny  was  sad,  weary 
and  greatly  debilitated.  However,  Maggie  continued  in  ex- 
cellent health  and  fine  spirits^  for  she  was  gaining  laurels  in 
her  classes,  and  in  a  few  years  might  graduate,  if  she  could 
only  continue  at  school,  and  Jenny  and  Manly  intended  she 
should  do  so,  if  within  their  power — for,  Capt.  Fred  Manly 
was  now  truly  in  love  with  this  brave  girl,  who,  so  young, 
fought  with  a  woman's  weapon,  if  not  with  "  arms,"  lor  her 
still  suffering  country. 

But  now  they  are  going  on  a  visit  to  good  Aunt  Evans,  all 
save  Manly,  w^ho  had  made  arrangements  to  visit  the  North  ; 
but  he  has  determined  to  again  broach  the  subject  next  his 
heart,  ere  they  separated,  and  try  to  gain  some  promise  from 
Maggie. 

It  is  the  evening  previous  to    their  departure,    on  a  boat  al- 
ready receiving  freight  at  her  wharf,  thatManly  requested  her 


136  ''BLUE  AND  GRAT: 


to  take  a  walk  with  him,  to  assist  in  making  some  purchases 
of  toys  and  confectionary  for  the  children  before  departure. 

Jenny  having  known  this  friend  so  long  and  so  well,  al- 
lowed her  niece  to  go  out  alone  of  evenings  in  his  company, 
and  under  his  protection. 

And  again  on  this  occasion  they  started  alone — he  hopeful 
—  she  rather  demurring,  as  she  anticipated  he  might  renew 
the  old  subject.     After  getting  a  short  distance,  he  said  : 

"  Let  us  go  down  to  Canal,  Maggie,  I  wash  to  go  to  Ty- 
ler's." 

''  Oh,  no  !  It  is  entirely  too  far.  I  have  packing  and  other 
things  to  attend  to  yet,  before  retiring.     I  can't  go  !  " 

"Nevermind  the  'packing  and  other  things,'  your  aunt 
will  attend  to  all  of  those  matters.  Come,  Maggie,  my  dear 
girl  don't  be  stubborn  !  I  want  3^ou  to  select  something  pret- 
ty for  yourself.  Beside,  I  wish  you  to  select  a  pretty  ring  for 
me  to  give  to  my  girl.  I  w^ant  it  to  be  an  engagement  ring, 
Maggie." 

*'  Well,  what  have  I  to  do  with  your  girl?  Why  don't  you 
let  her  select  it  herself?  I  won't  go  I  Let  us  go  in  the  con- 
fectioner's on  the  next  corner,  and  obtain  what  you  wish  for 
the  children,  and  then  return." 

"  Why,  Maggie  !  You  have  all  to  do  with  my  girl — and  as 
to  selecting  the  ring — that's  just  what  I  want.  Yes,  I  want 
you,  my  little  darling  girl  to  choose  that,  or  anything  else  you 
may  wish.  Now,  don't  put  on*my  child  !  You  know  I  love 
you  better  than  all  the  world." 

**  Don't  talk  nonsense  to  me  in  the  street  Captain  Manly  ! 
You  know  I  don't  like  Yankees  anyway.  But  don't  talk 
foolish  and  I'll  go  with  you. 

They  rode  down  to  Canal  street — made  some  purchases — 
then  w^ent  to  Tyler's.  Looking  at  some  beautiful  and  rich 
jewelry  of  varied  styles — ^^Maggie  remarked:  "That  if  ever 
she  became  engaged,  her  lover  would  have  to  give  her  a  ring 
'  like  this,'  "    holding  up  a  lovely  opal,  set  with  diamonds. 

"Ah,  Maggie,  you  shouldn't  have  such  extravagant 
notions  !  Suppose  your  lover  was  only  in  moderate  circum- 
stances, he  could  not  afford  such  a  ring." 


BLUE  AND  gray:'  137 


"  I  would  not  have  a  lover  that  was  poor." 

''Well,  my  girl  will!  So,  I  shall  purchase  this  chased 
gold  band  to  encircle  her  beautiful  tapering  finger  ;  and  when 
we  marry,  I  may  then,  if  able,  choose  such  a  ring,  as  that 
you  noticed,  for  my  bride." 

They  returned  home  ;  and  upon  Maggie's  going  inside, 
found  that  all  had  retired. 

She  had  invited  Manly  to  enter  on  their  return,  but  he 
preferred  remaining  outside,  and  seating  himself  upon  a 
settee  that  was  upon  one  side  of  the  portico,  patiently  awaited 
her  return. 

She  tarried  inside  rather  long,  he  thought,  so  he  called 
her.  Presently  she  came  out  to  him,  and  he  seated  her  by 
his  side,  and  speaking  in  soft,  tender  tones,  said : 

*'Now,  Maggie,  ckar !  give  me  your  hand.  Won't  you 
wear  this  little  ring,  with  the  promise  to  be  mine  as  soon  as 
you  complete  your  education  !  No  use  my  telling  you — what 
you  already  know — that  I  love  you." 

"  But  suppose,  I  don't  \on^  you,  Captain  Manly?" 

"  Don't  you,  Maggie?     Speak  truly,  little  girl." 

'*I  don't  love  any  one  else." 

**  Thank  you,  dear  girl ;  for  that  assertion  is  as  much  as  I 
can  expect  now.  But  don't  think  about,  or  try  to  love  another. 
Give  me  my  little  hand,  dear." 

She  silently  reached  out  and  took  one  of  his  hands  and 
placed  it  in  the  other. 

"Oh,  ho;  miss!  I  have  both  of  yours  now,  instead  of  one  !" 
catching  both  of  hers — *'  and  am  going  to  hold  them  until  you 
learn  '  to  quit  your  behavior,  and  learn  how  to  don't.'  Now 
you  are  in  a  pretty  scrape.  Miss  Maggie.' " 

'*  I'll  don't  right  away.     Please  let  me  go  !" 

«*A11  but  one  hand;  that's  mine."  He  at  once  slipped  the 
ring  on  the  now  unresisting  finger  of  the  hand  he  now  held. 

*' You  must  think  of  me,  Maggie,  and  prepare  yourself  to 
be  my  own  little  wife,  in  a  year  from  now." 

'«I  am  going  to  tell  you  truly.  Captain  Manly.  I  do  like 
you  right  well,  but  you  know  how  I  hate  Yankees,  and  I  don't 
think  I  shall  be  any  man's  wife  until  we  are  a  free  people.    It 


138  ''  BLUE  A ND  GRA  T. ' 

makes  me  almost  dislike  yoii^  at  times,  when  I  think  how  we 
are  treated,  and  of  that  saucy  negress  and  those  Yankee 
soldiers." 

"  But,  Maggie,  my  love,  why  mix  love  with  your  country's 
cause?  You  know,  dear,  that  I  am  a  friend,  and  that  I  have 
done,  and  will  do  all  in  my  power,  to  make  things  right  once 
more;  yes,  and  will  now,  more  than  ever,  try  to  be  a  friend 
to  your  State." 

*' Well,  then,  when  my  State  is  free — free  from  despot's 
tyranny — I'll  be  your  wife." 

'*  Cruel  Maggy  !  Wayward  child  I  But  I  guess  all  will  be 
right  soon.  It  is  getting  late,  so  my  watch  says,  and  I  must 
be  off  to  my  quarters.  Will  you  not  give  me  a  farewell  gift, 
Maggie?  Our  wooing  seems  prosy-like,  some  every-day  oc- 
currence.    Give  me  our  engagement  kiss,  and  I'll  go." 

He  kissed  her  gentl}^,  and  softly  went  his  way. 

But  the  family  did  not  leave  on  the  day  appointed. 

Early  next  morning,  Captain  Manly  looking  pale  and  wor- 
ried, rang  the  bell,  and  upon  the  servant  opening  the  door, 
requested  to  see  Jenny  at  once  in  the  parlor. 

She  hurried  in  quite  agitated,  exclaiming  as  she  entered: 
'*  W^hat  news,  Captain?  I  know  there  must  be  something  the 
matter,  or  you  would  not  be  here  so  early      What  is  it?  " 

"  Sit  down  Mrs.  Bancroft,  and  don't  be  alarmed.  It  is  not 
much,  only  INIr.  Bancroft  by  some  means  or  other  has  man- 
aged to  elude  his  guard,  and  made  his  escape  ;  how  he  con- 
trived it,  is  not  3'et  ascertained.  Mr.  Lacelles  sent  for  me  at 
daybreak.  I  have  employed  private  detectives  to  trace  him. 
Knowing  your  repugnance  to  publicity,  I  guarded  all  parties 
aware  of  the  fact  to  be  silent.  Is  there  anything  else  you  wish 
done  Mrs.  Bancroft?  " 

'*  No,  thank  you  !  Oh,  yes  !  We  cannot  leave  to-day.  You 
will  oblige  me  by  sending  word  to  the  officers  of  the  steamer. 
Has  nothing  at  all  been  heard  from  him  Captain?" 

"  Not  when  I  left.  As  soon  as  there  is  the  slightest  trace, 
it  will  be  reported  at  the  asylum,  and  I  am  to  be  immediately 
notified.     I  think  myself  you  had  better  defer  your  trip  and 


BLUE  AND  gray:'  139 


wait  the  next  boat,  by  that  time  the  fugitive  will  be  again  in 
proper  hands." 

During  the  day  Manly  brought  the  news,  that  one  of  the 
detectives  had  traced  the  missing  man  to  the  lower  Basin,  a 
pair  of  shoes  was  found  close  to  the  water's  edge,  they  were 
identified  as  belonging  to  the  missing  man. 

The  report  confirmed  Manly's  fears,  that  the  lunatic  must 
have  drowned  himself.  There  were  many  foot-prints  found 
around  about  the  place,  and  it  looked  as  though  the  man  had 
rolled  on  the  ground,  or,  that  there  had  been  a  scuffle  or 
struggle,  and  what  was  strange,  drops  of  blood  was  found 
here  and  there,  no  other  clue,  except  a  bundle  of  clothes  be- 
longing to  some  laboring  man  apparently,  was  found  not  far 
from  the  spot. 

A  strict  search  was  made,  but  for  two  days  there  was  noth- 
ing further  discovered,  but  on  the  third  day,  it  was  reported 
that  a  body  was  floating  at  some  distance  away  from  where 
the  clothes  were  found,  with  the  head  and  face  so  disfigured, 
as  not  to  be  recognizable. 

The  body  was  taken  from  the  water,  and  Captain  Manty  saw 
it.  The  coat  was  certainly  like  the  one  he  saw  on  Mr. 
Bancroft's  back,  and  naturally  concluded  that  the  body  was 
that  of  the  missing  lunatic  All  that  were  interested  came 
to  the  same  conclusion. 

A  coroner's  inquest  was  of  course  held.  The  jury  returned 
a  verdict  of  "Found  Drowned,"  and  also  recommended 
that  the  city'  authorities  try  to  discover  further  particulars — 
but  that  was  the  last  of  it. 

Mr.  Lascelles  claimed  the  body  for  Jenny,  and  Captain 
Manly  procured  a  metallic  coffin,  had  the  corpse  placed  there- 
in, and  conveyed  to  her  present  home.  Notice  of  the  funeral 
was  published,  that  "  The  friends  and  acquaintances  of 
Richard  Bancroft,  Esq.,  are  respectfully  invited  to  attend  his 
funeral,  at  halt-past  four,  p.  m.,  the  14th  inst.,  from  No. — 
Magazine  street ;  "  and  at  that  hour  the  body  was  taken  to  the 
Girod  Street  burying  ground,  followed  by  the  family,  and 
buried. 

The  neighbors  had  been  informed  that  the  corpse  had  been 


140 


BLUE  AND  GRA1 


brought  from  the  asylum  to  the  home  of  Jenny,  and  though 
some,  for  the  first  time,  knew  of  her  affliction,  there  were 
others  that  had  known  of  Mr.  Bancroft's  situation  from  the 
first  day  of  her  arrival  in  the  city.  Nevertheless,  none  were 
the  less  friends  of  hers  on  that  account,  for  certainly  it  was 
no  disgrace  to  the  poor  woman.  True,  her  children  might 
suffer  from  its  effects,  yet,  even  that  did  not  stand  to  reason, 
for  hinacy  was  not  a  hereditar}^  disease  in  her  husband's 
family,  and  he  had  only  become  so  from  the  baneful  use  of 
those  -poisons  that  destroy  the  mind,  and  from  whose  use  so 
7nany  are  suffering,  even  at  the  present  day. 


( 

jflyH?  cfb  i}:  rf^b  if^ ->  i  b  f r  7^?  i^  f -  v"t  ft -'b  fb  ^Tb  cfb  i>  fb  ^H;  d^  ,d^  d^ 

>^k^    \    \    \    \    \^v.    \    \    \    \    \    \    \    \    \    \    \    \    \    \    \    \    ^gl 


bci?^:-i:i^:-^-:::l5^xi^ii^cd 


^^^i'K^-'  ^^Zk^-^::^ 


mK:\  \  \  \  \  \  \  \  \  -\  \\\\\\\\  \  \  \  v^ 

CHAPTKR  XXII. 

"  If  aught  be  loved,  'twas  Lara;  but  was  shown 
His  faith  in  reverence  and  in  deeds  alone; 
In  mute  attention;  and  his  care  which  guess'd 
Each  wish,  fulfill'd  ere  the  tongue  express'd." 

JIJAD  Jenny  forgotten  her  oath?  No.  But  she  could  not, 
lij  J[  neither  would  she  think  that  she  was  free  to  write  to 
Jji^  Harold  until  the  father  of  her  children  had  been 
placed  beneath  the  sod,  where  she  hoped  and  prayed  that  a 
just  God  would  be  unto  him  a  merciful  one  also.  Grieve y 
she  could  not,  although  she  felt  sad,  for  it  was  sad  to  see  the 
dead  laid  away  upon  their  cold  couch,  even  if  there  were  no 
kindred  ties  of  relationship,  or  an}^  other  link  that  binds  one 
human  being  to  anothtir — such  as  friendship  or  love. 

Only  a  few  days  previous  to  the  incidents  related  at  the 
close  of  the  preceding  chapter,  Captain  Manty  received  a  let- 
ter from  Harold,  stating  that  he  was  about  to  visit  Paris,  and 
requested  an  immediate  reply,  addressed  to  that  city.  He 
spoke  of  visiting  Persia  or  Australia,  he  said:  "It  did  not 
matter  which,  or  what  place  to  him." 

The  Captain  suspected  his  friend's  feelings,  and  though  re- 
specting him  highly,  could  but  pity  him.  Both  himself  and 
Doctor  Grumble  knew  much  of  Harold's  history,  and  who  he 
really  was,  but  had  promised  faithfully  not  to  divulge  his  se- 
cret. 

The  night  succeeding  the  day  on  which  the  funeral  took 
place  was  dark  and  gloomy.  It  reminds  Jenny  of  the  first 
meeting  with  Harold  under  her  own  roof — all  came  back  to 
her  memory  vividly.  A  dismal,  mournful  sound;  a  piteous, 
mournful  wail  came  dolefully  borne  on  the  night  air.  What 
was  it?  An  Irish  wake.  She  knows  what  that  wail  means. 
Yet,  could  the  dead  awaken  ?     Did   any   ever  come  back  to 


142  ''BLUE  A ND  GRA Y. 


life  who  had  passed  the  portal  that  divides  the  mortal  from 
the  immortal?  She  knows  not  why  these  thoughts  should  in- 
trude, yet  they  were  there,  causing  a  dark  foreboding  to 
creep  over  her  already  nervous  and  excited  mind.  She  is 
alone  ;  for  all  have  retired  with  the  exception  of  herself  ;  she 
thinks  of  her  oath. 

**  I  must  write,  for  I  have  szvorn  to  do  so.  Ah,  Harold, 
how  wrong  we  were  !  But  our  Heavenly  father  knows  we 
but  forgot  ourselves,  and  were  tempted  sorel3\  Yes,  we  were 
wrongs  ve7'y  wrong!  Still,  I  must  keep  my  oath — 7nust 
write." 

She  sat  down  and  wrote  him  along  friendty  epistle — telling 
him  succinctly  how  matters  stood,  and  that  her  husband  no 
longer  lived.  She  then  alluded  to  "  his  oath  "  and  "  that  she 
knew  that  he  could  not  be  in  more  than  moderate  circum- 
stances— that  she  was  poor  now,  so  would,  with  his  acquies- 
cence, relieve  himfrom  it — or  dissolve  it  by  mutual  consent." 

She  had  kept  her  oath.  The  letter  was  written,  sealed  and 
addressed.  A  letter  box  stood  conveniently  near  her  own 
door,  and  she  mused  thus  : 

*'  It  is  awful  dark,  but  I  believe  I  will  just  step  outside  and 
drop  the  letter  in  the  box  to-night,  then  no  one  will  ever  know 
about  it.  If  I  don't,  Maggie  will  find  it  out,  especially,  if  I 
wait  until  morning." 

She  softly  opens  the  door  and  peeps  out,  not  a  soul  seems 
to  be  near.  A  louder  and  more  dismal  cry  comes  from  the 
watchers  of  the  dead,  in  their  bitter  grief.  She  shudders, 
thinks  of  her  dead,  and  the  same  feeling  or  foreboding  rises 
again,  but  she  puts  it  aside  with  a  strong  will,  and  with  a 
brave  step  reaches  the  box,  and  drops  in  the  letter. 

She  turns  to  re-enter  her  door — she  is  startled,  for  there  is 
the  sound  of  footsteps  coming  quickly  up  the  street — they 
are  near — she  does  not  wish  to  be  seen,  so  hurriedly  enters, 
and  as  quick  as  thought,  closes  and  fastens  the  door  again, 
just  in  time.  "  Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha  :  "  Oh,  that  mocking  laugh  ! 
she  can  yet  hear  its  discordant  harsh  tones,  and  it  freezes  her 
blood — chills  her  through  and  through.  Oh,  that  hideous 
sound  !     Has  she  not  heard  it  before  ? 


BLUE  AND  GRAiy  143 


'« Great  God  !  It  must  be  him  !  Yet,  it  cannot  be  !  I  have 
heard  of  people  being  haunted,  there  must  be  some  truth  in 
it,  for  oh  !  I  am  sure  that  must  have  been  his  spirit. 

She  sank  upon  the  sofa,  pale  and  affrighted  ;  then  thoughts 
of  her  children  gave  her  strength  to  take  up  her  light — go  to 
her  room — which  is  occupied  also  by  Maggie  and  the  chil- 
dren. She  bolted  the  door  securely,  put  down  the  window 
sashes  and  made  them  fast,  then  feeHng  weak  and  exhausted, 
sat  on  the  foot  of  the  bed  where  little  Charley  lay  sleeping 
sweetly. 

After  a  little  time,  her  nerves  became  somewhat  composed, 
and  she  lay  down  beside  her  boy — yet  refreshing  sleep  came 
not  to  ease  her  tortured  mind  during  the  night,  only  a  few 
spells  of  partial  insensibility  would  steal  over  her,  and  that 
mocking  laugh  would,  in  imagination,  come  back  again  and 
again,  and  thus  haunted,  the  night  passed. 

At  daybreak,"  she  still  fearing,  opened  her  door  slightly  and 
continuously  peeped  out — heard  faithful  Martha  stirring — 
called  her,  and  informed  her  of  the  fright  she  had  received 
in  the  night — also  feared  some  one  had  been  around  the  house 
— requesting  her  to  be  careful,  but  to  make  a  thorough 
search. 

Martha  returned,  and  said :  ''  Everything  is  all  right,  I  can 
find  no  signs  of  anything  having  been  around." 

Even  then,  Jenny  could  not  feel  satisfied,  and  decided  to 
inform  Captain  Manty  of  that  familiar  laugh,   and  her  fears. 

He  came  to  breakfast  as  usual,  noted  her  agitation,  and  af- 
ter the  meal,  asked  her,  ''What  it  was  that  had  again  dis- 
turbed her?"  Taking  him  aside,  she  told  him  what  had 
taken  place  the  previous  evening. 

He  appeared  thoughtful,  yet  tried  to  dispel  her  fears,  and 
arouse  her  drooping  spirits,  and  said: 

"You  are  nervous  Mrs.  Bancroft,  and  must  leave  for  the 
country  to-morrow  ;  there  are  quite  a  number  of  cases  of 
fever  reported  in  the  city,  so  that  in  any  event,  you  will  be  all 
the  better  off  with  your  sister-in-law .  I'myself  must  visit  home 
soon,  and  prefer  to  go  and  return  by  fall." 

In  the  early  afternoon  of  that  same  day,  a  common-looking, 


U4  BLUE  AND  GRAY.'' 

but  showily  dressed  woman  knocked  at  the  door,  and  upon  the 
servant  going  there,  inquired  for  Mrs.  Bancroft.  *'  She  was 
out,"  the  servant  repHed. 

**  I  wish  to  see  her  on  particular  business,  something  very 
important  to  herself.  Will  you  give  me  a  slip  of  paper  and  an 
envelope?  I  will  leave  a  note." 

She  slipped  past  the  servant  as  she  spoke,  and  sat  down  on 
a  chair  that  was  in  the  hall. 

Martha  thought  that  was  pretty  cool  and  the  height  of  im- 
pudence, but  complied  with  the  demands  of  the  stranger. 

In  an  almost  illegible  scrawl,  she  wrote  : 

**  Madam  Bancroft  : — You  think  you  buried  a  husband  yes- 
terday and  you  did'nt.  I  have  news  which  is  worth  ^^our 
while  to  call  at  No. —  Julia  street,  and  find  out.  I  would 
wait  to  see  you,  but  for  good  reasons  can't  and  won't  come 
again.  Don't  bring  any  one  with  you,  but  you  may  tell  your 
woman  the  No.  of  my  house  as  a  proof  that  no  harm  is  meant 

you.  ArABEI.LA  SCROGGS." 

The  woman  vv'as  very  particular  in  sealing  it,  and  with  the 
injunction  '*  to  give  it  to  Mrs.  Bancroft  as  soon  as  she  re- 
turned," passed  out  of  the  door,  and  was  gone  down  the 
street.  Martha  watched  her  until  she  was  out  of  sight,  and 
while  yet  standing  and  thinking  what  such  a  woman  could 
have  to  tell  Jenny,  she  saw  her  mistress  coming  up  the  street. 
"  So  they  must  have  met,"  thought  she. 

On  reading  the  scrawl,  Jenny  fell  back  and  would  have 
fainted,  had  not  restoratives  been  at  once  given,  and  on 
regaining  full  possession  of  her  faculties,  exclaimed  : 

*'  I  knew  it !  I  knew  it !  It  was  not  a  spirit !  " 

The  children  were  crying  around  her,  and  Maggie  began 
to  scold. 

This  aroused  her  own  spirit  a  little,  and  she  told  Maggie, 
''  she  did'nt  know  what  she  was  talking  about,"  and  asked 
her,  *'  if  Manly  would  be  up  this  evening?  "  also  showed  her 
the  note." 

Maggie  turned  pale,  and  seemed  as  though  she  too  was 
about  to  lose  her  senses,  but  she  soon  recovered  herself,  and 
inquired  of  Jenny — 


BLUE  AND  GRAiy  U6 


' '  What  she  intended  to  do  ?  " 

*'  I  am  going  now;  "  said  she  rising,  '*  Martha  may  accom- 
pany me." 

**  But,  Jenny,  she  says  3^ou  must  not  take  any  one." 

*'No  matter!  Martha  can  stay  outside.  It  will  be  late 
when  I  return,  and  I  must  not  be  alone." 

The  number  of  the  house  indicated  in  the  note  was  reach- 
ed— a  dingy  looking  old  domicile;  not  familiar  to  Jenny,  yet 
somewhat  to  my  readers,  for  our  steps  led  us  there  once 
before. 

Martha  stood  a  little  distance  away  to  watch  and  wait  Jen- 
ney's  return. 

Jenny  knocks  at  the  door — a  girl  about  sixteen  opens  it — 
her  features  seem  very  familiar,  and  before  she  can  speak,, 
the  words  : 

''  Show  the  lady  up  stairs,"   startles  her. 

She  is  shown  into  a  private  room,  is  asked  to  be  seated^ 
and  the  woman  tells  her  story. 

"  You  are  Mrs.  Bancroft,  I  suppose?  " 

*'  That  is  my  name.  Madam," 

"  You  may  think  them  strange  words  I  wrote  you  Madam, 
but  they  are  true  ;  in  t/iat  room  lies  the  man  that  you  thought 
you  had  buried  yesterda}^ ;  he  has  been  with  me  since  the 
evening  he  escaped  from  the  asylum  ;  he  came  in,  ragged 
and  torn;  he  did  not  seem  to  recognize  us  at  all,  that  is,  I 
mean  me  and  my  daughter,  but  as  he  has  always,  for  the  last 
eighteen  years,  come  to  this  house  whenever  he  came  to  the 
city,  I  suppose  he  remembered  it.  Last  night  he  got  out  of 
his  room  some  way,  and  was  gone  a  good  while  ;  but  he 
came  back  and  went  to  bed,  and  has  been  in  a  kind  of  stupor- 
all  day.  I  am  too  poor  to  get  a  doctor  ;  I  was  not  always  so,, 
for  I  was  once  supported  very  handsomely." 

Jenny  drew  back  from  her  wdth  a  loathing  that  could  not 
be  mistaken,  at  which  the  woman  smiled,  but  continued  : 

*'Now,  1  have  got  to  get  along  the  best  I  can.  You  do  not 
remember  me,  but  I  know  you  ;  yes,  have  known  you  from  a 
little  child.     I  am  the  sister  of  Mrs.  Doestick." 

Jenny  at  once  arose  from  her  seat,  said   she   '*  must  go," 
10 


146  ''  BLUE  A ND  GRA  Y 


and  started  toward  the  door,  and  again  the  woman  smiled, 
and  said  : 

"  Not  3^et,  Mrs.  Bancroft,  you  poor  innocent  child  ;  noth- 
ing shall  harm  you.  But  won't  you  take  a  look  at  your  hus- 
band before  you  go?  He  won't  hurt  you  now.  He  is  in 
there." 

She  opened  a  door  as  she  spoke,  and  pointed  toward  where 
the  demented  man  lay.  Jenny  approached  the  open  door, 
and  looking  into  the  room  she  saw  him — her  husband — whom 
she  thought  was  dead  and  buried,  lying  there,  living ;  yes, 
breathing  almost  natural.  What  did  it  all  mean?  She  would 
have  again  fallen,  but  the  woman  caught  her.  She  could  not 
stand  that  touch,  so  again  sat  down. 

"  What  will  you  do,  madam?"   queried  Miss  Scroggs.' 

'*  Oh,  I  don't  know  !"   answered  Jenny. 

*'Well,  I   can't  have  him  to  stay  here  after  to-night." 

'*  Don't  trouble  yourself  ;  I'll  have  him  taken  away.  How 
much  do  I  owe  you?  Never  mind.  I  have  only  a  few  dollars 
with  me,  take  them — make  out  your  bill,  and  all  shall  be  paid. 
I  will  pay  you  also  to  be  silent;"  and  she  once  more  arose  to 
go." 

"  Mrs.  Bancroft,"  said  the  woman,  '*I  feel  sorry  for  you. 
I  have  been  a  wicked  woman,  and  am  yet,  but  I  have  some 
feelings  ;  still  I  am  selfish.  When  that  man  dies,  I  shall  have 
no  home  ;  for  this  house  is  his  property  ;  you  did  not  know  it, 
but  it's  so.  I  am  much  to  blame  for  his  past  life.  He  is  a 
far  better  man,  than  I  am  as  a  woman;  but  you  have  money 
and  friends — I  have  neither ;  pay  me  well,  and  I'll  do  just  as 
you  say." 

Jenny,  feeling  dizzy  and  sick,  staggered  out  of  the  room 
and  down  the  stairs.  The  same  girl  opened  the  door  for  her  ; 
she  got  outside  into  the  street,  looked  fearfully  around,  but 
saw  no  one  except  faithful  Martha,  who  came  to  meet  her. 
How  she  got  home  she  never  knew.  Captain  Manly  was 
there,  waiting  and  anxious.  Maggie  had  informed  him  of  the 
note,  and  he  wished  to  follow  Jenny ;  but  Maggie  was  now 
so  nervous,  and  the  two  children  frightened  at,  they  knew  not 
what. 


''BLUE  AND  GRAY?'  U7 

All  surrounded  Jenny,  as  soon  as  she  reached  home.  She 
seemed  to  have  a  cold,  set  stare  in  her  beautiful  brown  eyes. 
She  caressed  her  children  ;  drank  of  the  wine  that  Manly 
placed  to  her  lips ;  ate  of  the  supper  which  Martha  brought 
so  temptingly  to  her  side,  but  she  would  not  talk. 

Maggie  became  frightened  and  entreated  Manly  to  call  in 
a  doctor.  He  went  out,  but  soon  returned  accompanied  by 
the  nearest  physician.  *' Mental  trouble,  I  should  think. 
Needs  nothing  but  rest  and  quiet." 

He  wrote  a  short  prescription,  and  hurriedly  left.  At  the 
door  he  said  to  Manly  :  "  I  have  several  yellow  fever  patients 
in  this  neighborhood  ;  this  family  is  from  the  country,  and  I 
would  advise  them  to  return  there  as  soon  as  possible." 

Jenny  slept  well  during  the  night,  after  taking  the  soothing 
draught  that  was  provided  ;  but  when  morning  came,  she  ap- 
peared the  same.  Motionless  and  quiet  she  lay,  no  brightening 
of  the  eye — no  smiles — no  speech. 

Captain  Manly  was  in  a  quandary.  She  did  not  speak  of 
her  husband,  so  he  did  like  to  broach  the  subject.  Neither 
he,  nor  did  any  of  the  family  know,  what  the  suffering  Jenny 
had  learned  at  No.  —  Julia  street. 

He  was  making  up  his  mind  to  visit  the  house  and  find  out 
what  Jenny  had  heard  when  the  doctor  drove  up  in  his 
buggy  and  stopped  in  front  of  the  door. 

Manly  at  once  went  to  him  and  told  him  that  Jenny  was  not 
any  better. 

"  I  won't  come  in,"  said  the  doctor,  *'  for  I  am  just  from 
the  bedside  of  a  man  dying  with  black  vomit ;  it  seems  strange, 
but  the  man  is  the  very  image  of  Bancroft.  Goodness  !  Take 
care  of  yourself  Captain,  don't  you  get  sick,  for  '  Yellow 
Jack'  and  Yankees  don't  particularly  agree  with  each  other. 
Tell  the  young  lady  to  repeat  those  doses.  I  will  try  and  call 
in  again  this  evening." 

'*  How  far  off  is  that  case  of  vomit?  " 

''  Oh  a  good  ways  !  No.  —  Julia  street.  The  poor  fellow 
was  dying  when  I  left.  The  woman  gave  her  name  as  Scroggs. 
I  suppose  he  is  her  husband.  Well,  good  day  for  the  present ; 
as  I  said  before,  I  will  try  and  call  in  again  this  evening.    You 


148 


BLUE  AND  gray: 


had  better  go  in  and  take  a  strong  toddy,  for  3^ou  look  pale 
Captain,  but  don't  get  frightened  !  You  may  nurse  a  dozen 
cases  and  not  take  the  disease,  if  you  don't  take  it  from  real 
fright,  as  so  many  do." 

What  must  he  do?  He  hardly  knows.  He  would  not  tell 
Maggie.  Well,  he  would  tell  Martha,  and  see  w^hat  she 
would  say,  and  he  entered  the  house  without  knowing  exactly 
what  to  do,  but  after  entering,  concluded  to  tell  Martha. 

But  where  was  she?  He  went  in  search,  but  could  not  find 
her. 


'^///^^■^/^'////'■^////y.':-'^////^^^^ 


CHAPTER.    XXIII. 

List!  his  familiar  step  I  heard, 

I  know  'tis  his,  for  I  sent  him  word 

To  come! 
Yet,  I  cannot  greet  him, 
No,  not  even  meet  him 

At  all. 


mUT  where  was  Martha?    She  was  not  in  the  dining-room 
lin     or  kitchen  ;  her  dinner  was  undisturbed,  and  the  stove 
and  all  upon  it — cold;   everything  was  in  place,  all  neat 
and  nice,  and  table  laid. 

Maggie  remembered  to  have  seen  her  go  out,  and  supposed, 
she  had  not  yet  returned. 

Here  was  another  puzzle  for  their  brains  to  decipher. 

Maggie,  with  the  assistance  of  little  Lilly,  warmed  and 
served  up  the  dinner,  as  Captain  Manly  had  been  away  from 
his  post  most  of  the  day,  was  now  compelled  to  return. 

Some  of  the  lonely  girl's  young  friends  called  and  remained 
awhile  for  company,  while  her  aunt  slept  away  the  afternoon. 

Little  Charley  could  not  be  moved  from  his  mother's  side, 
and  sat  fanning  her,  until  one  of  the  girls  in  the  kindness  of 
a  tender  heart,  pleaded  with  him  to  lie  down,  saying :  '*she 
would  then  fan  both." 

But  where  was  Martha? 

Evening  came,  and  with  it  a  crumpled  note  from  the  poor 
woman — the  contents,  about  as  follows  : — 

**  Would  Miss  Maggie  send  her  clothes?  She  had  gone  of 
her  own  accord  to  the  Charity  Hospital ;  feeling  very  sick  she 
knew  she  could  be  of  no  service,  only  a  trouble — and  was  cer- 
tain now,  of  what  she  feared  in  the  morning,  that  she  was 
going  to  have  Yellow  Fever." 

Faithful  Martha  !     Thy  example  throws  a  halo  around  thy 


150  "  BL  UE  A  ND  GRA  Y. ' 

brow  richer  than  the  costliest  diadem,  and  adorns  thy  whole 
being  with  a  glory  more  magnificent  than  the  richest  robes 
decked  with  the  brightest  and  rarest  jewels.  Thine  utter  ab- 
negation of  self  was  truly  noble,  and  is  well  worthy  of  imita- 
tion by  all  above  thee  in  station.  How  few  would  prove  so 
unselfish  !  Ah  !  it  is  not  title  or  rank — society  or  wealth,  that 
makes  man  or  woman  truly  noble.  Oh,  no  !  But  that  one, 
whose  heart  is  filled  with  virtue,  and  whose  mind  is  firmly 
fixed  to  follow  the  dictates  of  that  heart  in  deeds  of  mercy, 
charity  and  brotherly  love  ;  and   where  such  exists,  and  we 

find  it,  we  can  truly  exclaim — noble,  grand,  God-like  ! 

******* 

Seven  weeks  have  passed  ;  the  family  are  still  in  the  city.. 
The  angels  of  God  came  down  and  bore  many  loved  forms 
away.  Death  threw  his  dart,  and  many  victims  fell  by  the 
wa3'Side.  But  now  he  has  become,  as  it  were,  satiated,  for 
his  victims  are  growing  less  in  number  daily,  and  yet,  there 
were  but  few  families  that  had  not  felt  his  blighting  presence, 
in  some  form  or  other,  or  had  not  lost  some  loved  one  from 
their  midst. 

Jenny  still  fluttered  on  the  brink  of  the  *'  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death,"  but,  when  her  children  lay  side  by  side, 
and  when  the  doctor  whispered  that  little  Lilly  seemed  droop- 
ing, and  was  afraid  the  tender  flower  could  not  stem  the  blast, 
she  rallied. 

Maggie  too,  had  been  very  low.  But  He,  who  governs  all, 
and  rules  even  the  sweeping  epidemic,  had  not  issued  His 
edict  as  yet,  to  dissolve  that  little  household. 

Jenn}^  had  escaped  the  fever  thus  far,  but  when  all  were  re- 
covering she  was  stricken  down,  only  slightly,  the  doctor 
said,  yet  she  lingered  and  fell  back  into  the  same  listless  man- 
ner once  more. 

Captain  Manly  escaped,  and  yet  he  had  been  most  attentive 
to  the  aflfliicted  family. 

Martha  had  recovered,  and  sought  her  home  again.  Jenny's 
position  as  teacher  was  filled,  with  the  condition  that  it  should 
be  again  for  her  acceptance,  as  soon  as  she  had  recovered,  and 
felt  able  once  more  to  resume  her  duties 


BLUE  AND  gray:'  151 


Captain  Manly  had  called  on  Mrs.  Scroggs,  and  she  gave 
him  the  particulars  of  what  she  had  told  Jenny. 

Mr.  Bancroft  was  now  trtdy  dead,  died  as  the  doctor  had 
said  with  '  black  vomit^''  and  was  now  certainly  buried;  '  for/ 
said  Mrs.  Scroggs,  ''  the  lady  had  promised  her  payment,  and 
she  had  had  him  decently  buried,  and  the  spot  marked." 

Both  Captain  Manly  and  Miss  Scroggs  coincided  in  the 
belief  that  the  man  found  in  the  '  Basin  '  was  a  victim  of 
the^  madman's  frenzy,  '  For,'  said  Miss  Scroggs,  ''  when 
Mr.  Bancroft  returned  he  had  blood  upon  his  hands,  but 
I  had  no  suspicion  at  the  time  of  an3'thing  wrong  having 
taken  place  ;  in  fact,  had  not  given  it  a  thought."  But  this  fact 
confirmed  the  Captain's  belief.  And  thus,  those  two  persons, 
entire  strangers  to  each  other,  bore  a  terrible  and  heavy  secret 
upon  their  consciences. 

The  Captain  informed  Miss  Scroggs  that  Mrs.  Bancroft 
was  too  ill  to  attend  to  her  promise,  but  he  would  himself  see 
that  she  suffered  no  loss,  and  in  a  few  da3^s  after  called  again, 
ascertained  the  full  amount  of  Jenny's  indebtedness,  and  paid 
it  without  comment,  receiving  a  receipt  in  full,  made  out  in 
Jenny's  name. 

Since  that  day  Jenny  had  never  spoken  of  her  husband,  it 
seemed  as  though  he  had  entirely  passed  from  her  mind, 
neither  did  she  ever  mention  Harold's  name  or  speak  of  the 
letter  sent. 

The  evening  quite  cool — it  being  now  the  first  of  Novem- 
ber— a  small  coal  fire  burned  brightly  in  the  grate,  giving  a 
look  of  cheerfulness  to  a  cozy,  but  what  might  readily  be  seen, 
was,  a  sick  room.  The  invalid  lay  on  a  lounge  drawn  in  front 
of  the  fire.  Two  lovely  children  were  playing  on  the  rug, 
with  blocks  and  picture-books.  A  beautiful  girl,  about  the 
age  of  fifteen,  was  seated  at  a  table  intently  engaged  in  work- 
ing out  geometrical  problems,  she  looks  pale  and  thin,  so 
much  so,  that  she  is  hardly  recognizable  as  the  sprightly  and 
healthy  Maggie  Bancroft. 

A  ringing,  firm  step,  one  that  cannot  be  mistaken,  is  heard 
advancing  up  the  street — it  attracts  the  ear  of  the  invalid  and 
she  listens  intently  ;  as  it  nears  the  door  she  springs  into  a  sit- 


152  '' BLUE  AND  GRAT: 

ting  position,  and  her  eyes  dilate  as  if  in  terror — she  breathes 
heavily ;  the  steps  halt  in  front  of  the  house,  passes  slowly 
by,  and  she  sinks  back  ;  but,  listen — they  return,  yes,  faster 
than  before — they  bound  up  the  little  steps — the  invalid 
springs  from  her  couch — the  bell  rings— and  Maggie  is  at  last 
conscious  of  what  is  going  on  around  her. 

She  was  frightened  on  observing  her  aunt,  who  was  now 
standing  in  the  middle  of  the  floor ;  she  who  had  been  so  de- 
bilitated, that  at  times  could  scarcely  raise  her  head — now 
standing  erect  and  vehemently  exclaiming  as  she  pointed  to- 
ward the  door — 

*'Don't  let  him  come  in!  I  mustn't  see  him."  Too 
late  !  Lilly,  thinking  it  'Cousin  Fed'  as  she  had  learned  to 
call  him,  ran  to  the  door,  opened  it  to  its  fullest  extent,  and 
said  in  her  childish  prattle : 

*'Tum  in  !  I'se  so  glad  you  is  come  Mamma  is  bet- 

ter I     Look,  how  pootey  she  is  !" 

She  saw  the  tall  form  in  the  great  coat — saw  it  was  not 
*'Cousin  Fed,"  and  was  about  to  dart  away  affrighted,  when 
little  Charle}^  who  had  come  behind  his  sister  exclaimed  : 

"Oh,  it's    our  Hal !  Mamma  it's  Mr.  Harold  come  back." 

«'Yes,  it's  your  Hal!  Charley  boy,"  and  he  caught  Lilly 
up  in  his  broad  arms:      "Don't  you  know  me  little  darling?" 

Maggie  went  forward — amazement  depicted  upon  her  every 
feature. 

Jenny  had  left  her  standing  position,  and  w^as  now  kneel- 
ing by  her  lounge;  but  Harold  even  in  that  moment  noted  her 
action. 

"Walk  in,  Mr.  Chnton — My  aunt  has  been,  and  is  still  very 
sick,"  said  Maggie 

With  Lillian  still  in  his  arms,  and  Charley  by  the  hand,  he 
approached  Jenny,  and  reahzed  what  she  must  be  doing. 

If  he  never  loved  her  before — how  he  revered  and  loved 
her  now  ;  and  putting  Lillie  down,  he  knelt  besides  the  object 
of  his  deep  devotion. 

"Jenny,  poor  friend  !  I  have  come  back  to  take  care  of 
your  little  children,  they  are  mine  now,  as  well  -ii^  yours.  Get 
up,  and  welcome  me  to  your  heart  and  home." 


BLUE  AND  gray:'  153 


Maggie  looked  a  little  scornful,  and  said : 

*'Mr.  Clinton,  my  uncle  is  dead  'tis  true,  but  at  present  my 
aunt  is  in  no  condition  for  excitement;  she  has  been  very  low, 
and  for  seven  weeks  has  not  been  like  her  usual  self." 

**Who  says  your  uncle  is  dead?  'Tis  false!  I  saw  him  on 
the  bed  in    that  low  woman's  house,   and  I  must  ^6'  to  him." 

*'She  doesn't  know  what  she  is  saying,  Mr.  Clinton.  Lie 
down  aunty,  and  take  some  of  these  drops." 

*'I  can't  Maggie !  I  must  go.  Don't  come  near  me 
Harold  !°'     Harold  was  bewildered. 

Another  footstep  is  heard.  The  children  open  the  door, 
and  cousin  Fed  enters. 

His  surprise  too,  was  great,  but  he  was  truly  pleased  to  see 
his  friend  again. 

"Ah,  Captain  !  I'm  glad  you've  come,"  said  Jenny,  '*for 
now  we  can  remove  my  husband." 

Maggie  exchanged  looks  with  Manly  as  she  said :  *'My  aunt 
talks  strangel}^  this  evening.  Come  children  let's  go  into  tea, 
and  you  too,  Mr.  Clinton — will  take  a  cup  will  you  not?  You 
are  running  a  great  risk  by  coming  into  this  part  of  the  city 
now,  and  a  warm  cup  of  tea  will — " 

"Let  Clinton  stay,  Maggie,"  said  Manly,  "take  the 
children,  keep  our  supper  warm  until  b}'  and  by,  and  won't 
you  ask  Martha  to  give  us  something  nice  and  hot  beside  the 
tea  ?  Those  oysters  I  sent  up  this  evening — I  will  get  more 
for  to-morrow's  dinner ;  they  will  be  a  treat  to  Mrs.  Bancroft 
I  know." 

Maggie  frowned,  but  called  the  children  and  went  out. 

"  Sit  down  old  fel — I  want  to  talk  to  Mrs.  Bancroft.  Jenny, 
you  have  been  very  sick,  and  have  had  some  terrible  dream 
or  nightmare.  Your  husband  is  no  longer  living — that  I  will 
swear  to  before  God  ;  and  Mr.  Clinton  !  I  will  swear  that  he 
is  dead!  That  I  know  that  he  is  dead  !  When  you  are  a 
little  better,  perhaps  to-morrow,  I  will  show  you  the  proofs. 
Make  up  3^our  mind  my  good  friend  to  get  well  right  away, 
and  as  your  Yankee  brother,  who  is  also  anxious  to  become 
your  nephew,  I  will  give  you  to  this  ugly  fellow  here.  I  shall 
give  you  up  nov/,  so  look  to  him  from  this  night.     I'll  go  now. 


154  ''BLUE  AND  GRA2 . 


and  look  after  my  own  girl  and  the  oyster  supper,  and  if  3''ou 
are  right  good  Madam  Jenny,  you  shall  have  a  taste  ;  but  if 
not,  Harold  and  I  will  eat  the  whole  lot.     Are  you  satisfied?" 

He  was  gone,  and  Jenny  and  Harold  were  again  alone. 

''  What  a  boy  !  Yet  a  noble  heart  truly,"  thought  Harold, 
and    as    he    approached  Jenny,  he  said: 

**My  darling!  my  own  darling!"  and  he  pressed  her 
trembling  form  to  his  heart,  "nothing  shall  ever  again  divide 
us,  my  only  love."     He  kissed  her  brow,  cheek  and  lips. 

At  last  the  fount  that  had  been  so  long  sealed  was  rent 
asunder  by  those  endearing  terms  and  tones,  and  she  wept — 
wept  silently  and  unrestrainedly  for  some  time.  At  last 
Harold  spoke  in  soothing  tones  : — 

"That  will  do  now,  darling;"  he  went  to  the  table  and 
poured  out  some  water,  held  it  to  her  lips,  and  she  drank  a 
little.  "Rest  now,  my  darling,  and  I  will  sit  by  you.  Have 
you  no  good  claret,  or  wine  of  any  kind,  love?"  She  shook 
her  head,  then  faintly  whispered  "that  she  was  out  of  wine, 
but  Fred  didn't  know  it."  "You  must  have  some,"  he  said, 
and  was  about  to  go  for  it,  but  she  held  him  by  the  hand,  and 
said:    "No,  no,  Martha  will  go  presently." 

He  sat  down  and  held  her  hand,  bending  over  now  and 
then  to  smooth  the  rimples  in  her  hair,  and  kiss  her  pale 
brow. 

In  a  little  while  Manly  returned,  with  Martha  carrying  a 
waiter,  on  which  was  toast,  tea  and  a  steaming  plate  of  oyster 
soup.  Martha  was  now  introduced  to  Harold  as  one  of 
Jenny's  most  faithful  friends. 

"You  shall  never  regret  it,  my  good  woman,"  said  Harold, 
"but  now  Mrs.  Bancroft  should  have  the  best  of  wine." 

"Have  you  no  wine,  Jenny?"  put  in  Manly. 

"Just  out,"  she  said. 

"Well,  I'll  step  down  to  the  corner  and  get  a  bottle  for  to- 
night; but  remember  madam,  I  am  going  to  give  you  up. 
Harold  make  her  eat,  that  is  what  she  most  needs  now." 

Jenny  ate  the  soup  with  a  relish  that  warmed  the  heart  of 
Martha,  and  she  pronounced  her  looking  better  already. 

We  must  cease  giving  these  little  particulars,  for  we  have 


BLUE  AND  gray:'  155 


wound  round  and  round  the  stream,  until  we  are  near  the  end 
of  our  destination. 

Suffice  to  say  Love  is  the  best  physician  we  know  of,  and 
Kindness  the  best  nurse,  and  that  Jenny  soon  felt  their  united 
effects  upon  her  willing  self. 

Six  months  rolled  around,  before  Jenny  could  be  induced 
to  give  her  hand  in  holy  wedlock  to  the  only  man  she  ever 
truly  loved.  She  had  been  told  the  particulars  of  her  hus- 
band's death  ;  and  thus  we,  with  her,  will  leave  him  in  the 
hands  of  an  ever  merciful  God,  not  judging  him  according  to 
our  finite  minds,  but  remembering  that  we,  like  him,  are  but 
human,  and  have  our  sins  of  commission  and  omission 
recorded  in  full  array  against  us.  Let  us  plead  earnestly  for 
ourselves,  and  pluck  the  beam  out  of  our  own  eye,  before  we 
condemn  ;  and  then  we  can  feel  a  little  charity,  and  show  it 
toward  our  weaker  brethren  ;  as  it  is,  we  are  not  fit  judges. 
Is  it  not  written  '''judge  not,  lest  ye  be  judged,''  then,  let  us 
take  heed  lest  we  fall;  and  let  us  learn  a  lesson  on  charity. 
Let  the  sad  circumstances  that  attended  poor  Mr.  Bancroft's 
weakness,  be  a  life-long  lesson  and  warning  to  "taste  not, 
touch  not,  handle  not" — for  *'Who  hath  woe?  Who  hath 
sorrow?  Who  hath  contentions?  Who  hath  babblings? 
Who  hath  wounds  without  cause?  Who  hath  redness  of 
eyes? — They  that  tarry  long  at  the  wine."  Beware  of  it 
then  my  readers,  for,  *'It  biteth  like  a  serpent  and  stingeth 
like  an  adder."  And  if  in  writing  this,  it  be  the  humble 
means  in  God's  hand  of  warning  any  of  those  of  my  fellow  be 
ings  that  are  victims  of  that  debasing  vice.  Intemperance,  of  its 
evil  effects  in  the  dismembering  of  social  ties,  and  the  total 
ruin  of  many  a  household  ;  and  if  this  little  story  has  the 
power  to  make  such  reflect,  and  ask  themselves,  must  I  die 
thus?  and  from  such  reflections  rise  up  in  the  strength  of  their 
manhood,  cast  the  accursed  thing  aside,  determining  no  longer 
to  be  its  slave  ;  then  it  has  accomplished  its  purpose,  and  not 
been  written  in  vain. 

Jenny  had  made  many  objections  to  marrying,  for  she 
thought  Harold  was  poor;  and  did  not  wish  that  she  and  her 
children  should  be  a   burden  to   him,    but   he    had   overruled 


i56  ''BLUE  AND  GRAl 


that  objection  by  telling  and  convincing  her,  that  to  the  con- 
trary— "he  had  considerable  means." 

Mrs.  Frisk  too,  had  put  in  stray  objections,  saying  many 
hard  things  about  Harold,  abusing  him  to  every  one  she  met; 
but  that  had  only  added  fuel  to  the  flame  of  love  which  Jenny 
felt  for  "the  stranger,"  as  Mrs.  Frisk  had  called  him. 

But  at  last  kind  reader — devotion  has  met  its  reward  and 
they  are  made  as  happy  as  it  is  permitted  two  human  beings 
who  are  joined  in  the  bonds  of  matrimony  to  be.  He  had  ob- 
tained the  object  of  his  deep  devoted,  and  all  absorbing  pas- 
sion, and  she — well,  she  was  perfectly  satisfied. 

Jenn}^  was  still  delicate — some  whispered  "consumption." 
Harold  heard  of  these  whisperings  and  persuaded  Jenny  to 
consent  to  go  to  California,  and  live  there  for  a  time,  upon  a 
small  place  that  he  had  purchased  near  to  the  coast  of  the 
great  Pacific,  and  which  she  found  upon  her  arrival,  to  be  lit- 
eralty,  and  almost  perfect  paradise. 

Maggie  could  not  be  persuaded,  to  go,  but  declared  she  in- 
tended to  become  a  teacher,  and  not  depend  longer  on  other 
people  for  a  support. 

Frequent  letters  pass  between  them.  Jenny  writes  that 
they  are  very  happy.  Charley  is  improving  and  promises  to 
be  a  fine  scholar.  Lilly  is  a  p^erfect  pet  of  Harold's,  and  that 
Harold  himself,  is  all  that  ever  her  mind  conceived  him  to  be 
—  *'in  fact"— she  writes— "I  am  very  happy." 

In  a  couple  of  years  after,  Jenny  wTote  to  aunt  Betty  Evans 
**that  they  have  no  other  children  as  yet,  "  but  for  Harold's 
sake,  dear  aunty,  I  long  to  clasp  a  living  image  of  himself  to 
my  breast.  I  am  sorry  to  see  Maggie  still  clings  to  that  fool- 
ish whim  of  hers — of  not  wanting  or  wishing  to  marry,  until 
Louisiana  is  free.  Can't  you  persuade  her  to  be  reasonable?" 
and  furthermore,  she  spoke  in  most  loving  and  sisterly  man- 
ner of  Capt.  Manly,  wishing  him  every  happiness  earth  could 
give. 


^.  fa. fl>  p.  W  5P.  ;>. ^,  y!!  j>.  f>.  ?>,  p.  p.  f>.,.s\  tfe  p.  f>.  ?fe  fix  {>.  j^i  xfe  .i;>.  fit fi^i!? /t .<i^.  f>.  1^.  j?t  j^  t^  j^t  xf?  tb  4>i>x"xjitibxlx 


ijj  w  i;!  Jri  o  o  o  w  t>  ft  i;jijf  o  i^  tj  cy  o  «  o  « t*j  vj  c^'  o  Vi  o  o  jri  li  li  vj  V)  (^5  ft  ft  ft'ft  i^i  t;j  ti  ft' T^  "ft  ft  ef 


CHAPTKR  XXIV. 

'They  waited  but  a  leader,  and  they  found, 
One  to  their  cause  inseparably  bound.  " 


^^^'^|AGGIE  wielded  a  secret  power,  and  in  course  of  time 
^djM  "^^^y  ^slt' t>ut  few  realized  its  extent;  even  to  the 
^^#=  present  time,  only  her  most  intimate  friends  are 
aware  of  that  little  undercurrent  that  assisted  in  stemming  the 
reckless  and  cruel  torrents — in  removing  the  rocks,  shoals 
and  torpedoes,  that  had  been  aimed  at,  and  used,  whereon  to 
wreck  and  ruin  her  beloved  State — and  also  assisted  in  the 
endeavors  then  being  made,  to  counteract  the  direful  effects 
left  by  the  blasts  of  former  fierce  and  raging  storms. 

The  ambitious  girl  plead  ardently  to  remain  behind  in  the 
city,  to  finish  her  course  of  study — when  Jenn}-  had  decided 
to  take  her  children  and  make  that  long-expected,  but  post- 
poned visit  into  the  country — she  being  at  the  time  a  compet- 
itor for  the  highest  prize  awarded  the  most  excellent  in  her 
class,  and  was  in  a  fair  way  to  win,  which  she  did  eventually  ; 
also  obtaining  other  rewards  of  the  highest  merit,  as  she  passed 
through  the  different  grades,  until  she  became  a  graduate 
with  high  honors. 

Boarding  was  expensive  in  the  city,  and  Jenn^^had  not  then 
the  means  of  affording  that  gratification ;  but  Harold's  heart  was 
overflowing  with  human  kindness,  and  his  purse  being  well 
filled  he  proffered  his  assistance,  which  was  a  little  galling  at 
first  to  Maggie's  pride,  but  which  finally,  she  gracefully  ac- 
cepted. 

Maggie  studied  now  with  a  new  vim,  for  she  had  conceived  a 
a  new  object  for  doing  so,  that  of  repaying  Mr.  Clinton,  and 
she  had  often  declared  her  intention  of  becoming  nothing  less 
than  Principal  in  the  High  School  in  the  course  of  a   few 


158  ''  BLUE  AND  GRA  1 


years  ;   and    to   her    credit  she  finally  accomplished  her  in- 
tentions, 

She  was  placed  to  board  with  a  motherly  lady,  that  had 
been  so  unfortunate  as  to  lose  an  only  daughter,  by  death  ;  an 
extremely  homely  girl,  but  a  most  agreeable  companion,  and 
Maggie's  most  intimate  friend  ;  therefore,  she  was  thrice  wel- 
come to  the  lonely  striken  heart,  as  also  to  the  miserly  but 
sorely  grieved  father. 

Mrs.  Winston  was  a  Southern  lady  with  Southern  feelings, 
Mr.  Winston  a  Southern  man  with  Radical  principles.  But 
it  was  money  that  wielded  the  influence,  as  it  did  with  so  many, 
both  rich  and  poor,  at  that  time  ;  yes,  at  all  times  ;  for  we  find 
many  of  both  classes  that  worship  the  almighty  dollar,  espe- 
cially those  of  the  latter ;  for  they  will  be  as  deceitful 
as  deceit  can  be,  and  in  every  conceivable  manner  possible. 

When  Maggie  first  made  her  home  with  these  friends,  she 
was  not  fully  aware  how  deeply  Mr.  Winston  was  concerned 
in  political  affairs,  but  she  used  her  power  well. 

Capt.  Manly  had  been  North  for  a  couple  of  months,  and 
upon  returning,  he  found  Maggie  had  become  the  centre 
of  a  little  ring  that  was  formed  in  opposition  and  defiance  to  the 
gross  insults,  that  were  heaped  on  as  brave  a  people  as  ever 
before  struggled  for  liberty ;  and  a  freedom  from  a  bondage 
that  still  strove  to  rivet  the  manacles  still  stronger  and  tighter, 
upon  their  already  deeply  tortured  limbs.  And  though  her 
lover  still  wore  the  *'  blue,"  he  would  not  demean  himself  by 
joining  the  band  that  were  devouring  the  vitals  of  the 
*'  fallen  gray,"  heeding  not  the  cries  of  anguish  and  appeals 
for  mercy,  that  well'd  into  piteous  wails  ;  nor  the  scalding 
tear  drops,  that  unceasingly  fell  from  the  overstrained  eyes, 
strained  in  the  agonizing  gaze  to  find  even  one  soft  ray  of 
fity,  and  a  relenting  of  the  grasp  that  held  them  so  tightly. 
Neither  could  he  at  present  join  his  fate  with  theirs,  although 
he  fully  sympathized  with  them.  So  he  nobly  and  bravely 
held  aloof. 

Not  only  did  the  influence  of  Maggie's  love  have  weight  in 
balancing  the  scales  for  right  with  him,  but  his  noble  nature 
and  true  sense  of  Right  and  Justice,  bade  him  as  far  as 


I  BLUE  AND  GRA7.  159 

compatible  with  his  duties  as  a  Federal  officer,  to  advocate 
and  exert  himself  in  the  cause  of  humanity  ;  or  in  other  words 
to  befriend  State  Rights,  and  uphold  a  strict  adherence  to 
the  Peace  Policy,  so  valiantly  promised,  yet  so  utterly  dis- 
regarded by  some  in  high  command. 

Several  years  passed,  while  often,  xtvj  often,  the  lover 
pressed  Maggie  to  name  an  early  date  for  their  marriage. 
But  she  was  still  w^ayward — if  anything,  more  stubborn  ;  and 
invariably  gave  the  same  answer  :  "  No,  she  could  not  I  She 
had  vowed  never  to  give  up  the  old  *  Stale  Ship,'  and  if  she 
married,  why  what  could  she  do,  but  to  settle  down  and  be- 
come an  old  woman?  Household  duties  would  necessarily 
occupy  her  time.  Well,  she  was'nt  wilHng  to  give  up  her 
freedom  3'et  anyhow." 

He  grew  sick  and  tired  waiting.  A  rupture  of  engagement 
was  the  concsequence  ;  and,  though  they  loved  each  other — 
they  parted  in  anger. 

After  some  da3^s,  he  obtained  leave  of  absence  from  his 
duties  ;  repeated  his  visit  home  ;  stayed  there  but  a  few  days  ; 
then  decided  to  visit  St.  Louis,  where  a  favorite  sister  of  his  re- 
sided, and  while  there  the  Pacific  Railroad  was  completed.  Of 
course  the  subject  of  how  it  would  succeed,  etc.,  etc.,  became 
the  all  engrossing  theme  of  the  day. 

He,  feeling  unhappy,  and  discontented  with  himself  and 
everything  around,  suddenly  determined  to  run  the  risk,  and 
be  one  of  the  number  to  take  a  trip  over  the  hazardous  route 
by  the  first  train  that  started  for  that  purpose,  and  if  he  suc- 
ceeded in  reaching  San  Francisco  in  safety,  he  would  visit  his 
old  friend  of  the  Gray,  Sir  Harold  Clinton,  and  his  devoted 
family;  for  many  times  in  their  correspondence  with  each 
other,  Harold  had  urged  him  to  make  them  a  visit,  and  insist- 
ing on  Maggie's  bearing  him  company  as  his  bride  ;  but, 
pshaw  I  that  was  now  done  with  ;  she  would  never  go  with  him, 
he'd  go  alone  ;  this  was  a  good  chance,  and,  what  if  he  did 
perish  by  the  way,  would  she  care  or  grieve? 

"  Awild  goose  chase,"  said  his  sister  and  entreated  him  to 
remain  with  her,  '*  or  better  still"  she  said,  "  return  to  your 
company." 


1  GO  *  *  BL  UE  A  ND  GRA  Y. ' 


Nevertheless,  he  made  the  trip,  and  became  enraptured 
with  the  grand  and  varied  scenery,  lovely  landscapes  and 
views,  that  presented  themselves  as  they  dashed  swiftly 
along  the  sometime  lonely  looking  and  dangerous  pathway 
of  the  loRN  Horse. 

Equally  dehghted  was  he  to  reach  the  lovely  home,  and 
greet  once  more  face  to  face,  the  friends,  whose  friendship 
he  prized  next  to  those  of  his  own  kith  and  kin  ;  but  even 
there,  he  could  not  find  the  content  his  heart  yearned  ;  in  that 
haven  that  was  so  free  from  care  he  grew  restless,  and  after 
a  stay  of  only  a  few  days  bade  them  adieu,  and  returned  to 
his  post  of  duty. 

Maggie  in  the  meantime  had  been  honored  with  an  offer 
of  the  hand  and  heart  of  an  honorable  Southern  gentleman  ; 
one  whose  private  and  public  life  had  never  felt  one  single 
touch  of  stigma. 

They  had  both  worked  in,  and  for,  the  same  cause  ;  and 
often  she  received  his  attention,  and  was  pleased  with  his 
society ;  never  thinking  of  her  own  charms,  and  forgetting 
what  might  be  the  future  consequence.  When  too  late,  the 
mischief  having  been  done,  she  was  grieved  to  discover  that 
she  had  unwittingly  planted  a  thorn  in  the  bosom  of  her  com- 
panion and  co-worker. 

Mr.  Winston  had  become  very  fond  of  Maggie's  society, 
she  constantly  reminded  him  of  his  own  darling  daughter; 
they  would  have  the  hardest  contentions  and  arguments  on 
politics,  but  always  friendly ;  but  he  slowly  and  gradually 
changed  through  Maggie's  influence,  and  that  of  his  gentle 
wife  ;  he  returned  to  nobler  thoughts  of  his  countr3^'s  wrongs,, 
and  he,  with  other  intimate  friends,  came  to  view  affairs  in 
their  proper  light,  which  caused  them  to  do  deeds  of  honor 
that  will  ever  redound  to  their  credit  and  good  name  ;  and 
all  through  little  wayward  Maggie  and  the  power  that  she 
wielded  for  the  liberty  of  her  State — her  beloved  home. 

During  these  days,  many  times  ladies  were  insulted  and 
disgusted,  with  sights  loathsome  to  modesty  being  publicly 
enacted,  as  if  in  direct  insult  to  innocent  youth  and  blushing, 
modest  virtue ;  while  the  language  which  fell  from  lips  pol- 


BLUE  AND  GRAT?'  lei 


luted  by,  and  from  its  grossness,  would  send  the  blood 
surging  through  one's  veins  with  maddening  shame  and 
speed. 

One  instance,  instancing  the  above  assertion  : 

At  the  time  of  the  visit  of  the  Grand  Duke  Alexis  to  New 
Orleans,  Maggie  and  two  lady  friends  were  the  disgusted 
hearers  of  some  remarks  that  fell  from  the  sweet  scented  (?) 
lips  of  two  colored  ladies  (who,  being  ahke,  were  just  and 
equal,  I  suppose)  who  had  been  allowed  tickets  to  the  seats 
erected  on  St.  Charles  street,  for  the  accommodation  of 
spectators  to  view  the  "  Carnival  "—the  «*Duke"  and  the 
**  Governor." 

Unconscious  that  the  two  women  at  their  feet  were  colored, 
these  two  lady  friends  and  Maggie  seated  themselves,  and  in 
a  moment  more,  other  ladies  filled  in  the  space  around,  and 
as  the  Duke  and  Governor  appeared  before  the  public,  these 
ladies  (?)  of  color  set  up  an  immediate  chatter — said  one: 

"  Dar  he  am  now,  bress  his  heart !  A'nt  um  hansum  man 
as  3'Ou  eber  seed?  Dat  ar  forren  feller  needn't  try  to  shine 
by  him  !  I  jest  tell  yer  what  'tis  Sally,  I'm  gwine  to  set  my 
cap  for  him.  Now  don't  yer  go  in  fer  to  cut  me  out ;  I'll  tell 
yer  gal,  if  yer  do,  I'll  hev  to  guv  yer  a  licking,  an  I's  de  gal 
wot  ken  du  it." 

^  **  Now,  Suke,  yer  just  shet  up  yer  big  boasting  ;  yer  knows 
I'm  de  belle — fer  de  odder  day\ven  I  was  a  pradin  wid  dat 
wite  gemman,  I  met  dat  hansum  feller  what  yer's  talkin' 
'bout,  an  him  smiled  de  most  beautifulest  on  me." 

Suke  denied  the  assertion  in  vehement  and  most  impure 
and  obscene  language  :  in  fact,  too  indecent  to  soil  the  pages 
of  any  book  whatever,  while  the  balance  of  those  sweet  (?) 
belles'  conversation  was  entirely  obscene,  even  for  the  ears  of 
the  coarsest,  for  it  was  simply  outrageous  ;  and  yet,  such 
creatures  were  honored  with  tickets  to  seats  among  the  tender, 
sensitive,  and  pure  minded  daughters,  sisters,  mothers  and 
innocent  children  of  many  States— for  it  was  on  the  afternoon 
of  the  day  of  New  Orleans'  great  '' Mardi  Gras  "  Festival. 

What  would  have  been  the  feehngs  of  poor  Louisiana's 
then  Governor  had  he  been  aware  that  he  was  the  object  of 
XI 


162  ''BLUE  A ND  GRA T 


SO  great  (?)  admiration,  besides  being  the  target  for  sly 
hints,  and  vulgar  scandals,  repeated  for  the  benefit  of  '*dem 
white  wimmen.  " 

A  colored  person  never  says  white  lady,  but  vjJiite  woman, 
v^hile  their  own  color,  no  matter  how  black  both  skin  and 
reputation  may  be,  is  *'  that  lady^ 

Some,  may  think  the  above  incident  an  exaggeration,  but 
there  are  others  Vv^ho  can  verify  the  assertion  of  its  truthful- 
ness. 

And  you  may  feel  assured  that  those  ladies  who  heard  the 
above  conversation,  and  eulogy,  removed  their  proximity  to 
those  Black  Roses  as  soon  as  possible. 

This  happened  while  Maggie  was  in  the  city  pursuing  her 
studies,  and  to  the  present  she  never  reads  of,  hears  of,  or 
meets  that  handsome  man,  that  she  does  not  think  of  that 
same  conversation. 

*  *  *  * 

They  waited  but  a  leader. 

The  election  of  1876  is  approaching.  '  She  is  beginning  to 
tire  of  her  present  life,  or  path  she  has  chosen.  Visions  of  a 
sweet  hope,  a  cozy  home  and  a  fond  heart  to  lean  upon, 
would,  in  spite  of  all,  haunt  her  in  her  dreaming  hours. 

Captain  Manly,  through  the  kindly  influence  of  Mrs.  Win- 
ston, offered  himself  for  Maggie's  acceptance  once  more, 
having  remained  true  to  the  last ;  and  she  could  not,  dare  not 
reject  him  now,  for  she  too  had  suffered.  So  the  time  is 
now  set  for  the  wedding,  "  as  soon  as  Tilden  and  Nichols  are 
elected,"  she  said. 

Jenny  and  Harrold  were  entreated  to  make  a  visit,  and  as 
Jenny  expressed  a  wish  to  visit  her  old  home  once  more, 
Harrold  at  once  made  ready  to  gratify  that  wish. 

They  too,  gave  the  Pacific  Road  a  trial,  as  Jenny  dreaded 
the  journey  by  sea. 

In  handsome  rooms  of  the  ill-fated  Southern  Hotel  of  St. 
Louis,  we  find  them.  Charlie  has  grown  to  be  quite  a  hand- 
some youth,  but  still  a  cripple,  and  bids  fair  to  become  a  star 
in  the  firmament  of  fame  in  the  rising  generation,  for  already 


BLUE  AND  gray:'  163 


his  sweet  poems  and  touching  strains,  born  from  the  heart  of 
his  blighted  life,  is  felt  by  many  true  lovers  of  the  muse. 

Lilly,  still  delicate — a  fragile  flower  beautiful  as  any  pic- 
tured fancy  can  portray,  has  a  passion  for  music,  and  as  her 
indulgent  step-father  is  himself  an  artist  in  that  line,  she  had 
every  advantage,  and  profited  by  them,  for  at  the  age  of  four- 
teen, even  younger,  she  is  an  unexceptional  performer. 

They  are  boih  in  the  parlor  of  the  hotel  with  some  young 
friends  that  have  called — nieces  of  Captain  Manly,  while 
Harold  is  with  his  wife  in  their  own  private  sitting  room  ;  on 
his  knee  he  held  an  exact  counterpart  of  his  own  finely  cast 
features.  Perhaps  he  is  not  proud  :  prouder  than  the  highest 
dignitary?  We'll  see  !  Let  us  take  a  peep,  and  we  shall  see 
that  joy  and  happiness  lights  up  every  smile. 

His  wife  stood  by  his  side,  he  reaches  up,  and  gather  both 
to  his  bosom. 

*'My  own  precious  darlings  !"  said  he  ''x\h,  Jenny,  my  own 
precious  love !  Do  not  let  us  forget  God  and  our  other 
children  in  our  great  love  and  pride  in  this  little  beauty,  for 
really  darling,  I  think  she  is  the  loveliest  child  I  ever  saw." 

Jenny  perhaps  felt  a  little  jealous  for  her  delicate  Lilly — 
for  she  said:      "Prettier  than  Lilly  was,  Harold." 

^'Healthier  looking  my  own — Lilly  was- pretty — features 
beautiful,  but  she  never  had  the  vivacity  of  this  saucy  romp." 

Yes,  she  was  a  little  beauty!  Harold  and  Jenny's  child, 
and  truly  a  saucy  little  pet.  Tvv^o  years  of  age  when  they 
visit  Jenny's  old  home  and  the  scene  of  their  first  love. 

The  child  held  up  her  tin}^  rosebud  lips,  and  asked  *'Mam- 
ma  to  tiss  her,"  and  begged  for  a  drink  of  water. 

Jenny  went  across  the  room  to  a  table — partly  fills  a  glass, 
her  old  superstition  having  gradually  worn  oft,  when  lo  !  it 
slips  from  her  her  hand  and  falls  upon  the  marble  top-table, 
and  is  shattered.  In  an  instant  the  old  feeling  revived,  the 
incidents  that  followed  the  two  preceding  accidents  of  the 
broken  goblets  crossed  her  mind — she  felt  deadly  faint  and 
would  have  fallen,  had  not  her  husband  quickly  put  down  the 
child,  and  sprang  to  her  side  and  caught  her  in  his  arms. 

"Oh,  Harold!     The  warning   has  come   again!    There   is 


164  ''BLUE  AND  GRAY: 


something  going  to  happen!     Oh,  my  children!     Where  are 
they?" 

**The  children  are  in  the  parlor,  love.  Don't  let  idle  super- 
stition fill  your  christian  mind.     Be  brave,  darling  !" 

*'0h,  do  my  dear  husband  let's  quit  this  city,  now,  right 
away !     Something  is  going  to  happen  I  am  sure." 

"Certainly,  my  love,  if  you  wish,  and  it  will  satisfy  you — 
we  will  leave  ;  for  you  know  your  wishes  are  my  law." 

They  departed  same  day,  and  well  they  did,  for  not  many 
hours  after  their  departure  for  New  Orleans,  the  Southern 
Hotel  was  a  smouldering  ruin,  and  from  thence,  though  by 
nature  not  at  all  superstitious,  Harold  himself  felt  slightly  so, 
but  the  feeling  at  length  wore  away  ;  but  still,  he  never  allowed 
Jenny  to  use  anything  for  drinking  purposes  except  gold-lined 
silver  goblets,  of  which  he  purchased  two,  and  carried  them 
along  wherever  they  went  when  travelling. 

Prior  to  the  inaugural  of  Gov.  Nichols,  while  both  fac- 
tions were  contending  for  the  State  Government,  Maggie 
was  wending  her  way  along  a  street  usually  unfrequented  by 
her,  when  a  woman  apparently  a  few  years  older,  but  resem- 
bling herself  in  features,  stopped  her  and  said: 

** Don't  go  further  down  Miss  Bancroft,  for  there  are 
many  cases  of  small-pox  on  the  very  next  corner. 

Being  an  entire  stranger  to  Maggie,  and  she  a  stranger  in 
that  locality,  she  felt  greatly  suprised  at  the  woman  calling 
her  by  her  name. 

**  How  do  you  know  that  I  am  Miss  Bancroft,  Madam? 
You  an  entire  stranger  to  me." 

The  woman  smiled,  and  a  woe-begone  look  flit  across  her 
features  as  she  answered  ; — 

**I  saw  you  when  you  first  came  in  the  city  to  Hve,  and 
have  seen  you  often  since  then.  I  also  saw  your  beautiful 
aunt  once,  and,  oh,  how  I  longed  to  have  such  another  lady 
for  my  mother,  I  knew  your  uncle  well." 

**  Ah,  that  is  a  strange  longing  surely  !  Truly  you  must  be 
about  the  same  age  as  my  aunt.  She  will  be  in  the  city  soon." 

'*  I  have  seen  her  husband  too.  What  a  nice  gentleman  he 
is.     She  must  be  haffy  now,  Miss  Bancroft." 


'' BLUE  AND  GRKY:'  165 

**  Very  happy,  I  believe  !  "  ''  How  strange  !  "  thought 
Maggie,  but  she  did  not  wish  to  stand  on  the  street  to  attract 
observation,  neither  did  she  wish  to  extend  the  conversation 
with  the  strange  woman,  and  though  she  was  inclined  to  be 
strong  minded,  or  thought  so  anyway,  she  was  dreadfully 
afraid  of  the  loathsome  disease,  so  retraced  her  steps  a  short 
distance,  then  crossed  a  more  prominent  thoroughfare. 

A  couple  of  days  after  this  event  a  note  was  left  at  the 
house  for  Maggie,  which  thus  read  : — 

'*Miss  Bancroft: 

*'  As  your  friend  and  that  of  the  whites  of  this  city,  I  want 
to  tell  you  to  warn  your  friends  of  much  plotting  and  secret 
meetings  of  some  low  whites  and  the  blacks.  I  could  tell 
more,  but  if  I  put  you  on  your  guard  that  will  be  enough,  I 
am  low  myself,  but  would  not  stoop  to  mix  as  some  do,  but 
still  I  am  not  fit  to  come  into  your  presence.  I  am  the  woman 
who  spoke  to  you  the  other  day  on  C street." 

There  was  no  name  signed  to  the  warning  thus  sent.  *'  A 
strange  woman,"  said  Maggie,  "  what  curious  things  do  come 
to  light,  Heig-ho  !     I  can  guess  now  who  that  woman  is.     Poor 

Jenny,  no  wonder  you  were  crazed  after  that  visit  to  No. 

Julia  street. 

On  that  glorious  day  when  Gov.  Nichols  was  inaugurated, 
a  colored  boy  said  to  a  number  of  ladies  in  a  boarding  house, 
**  That  the  white  women  had  better  not  go  on  the  street,  for 
the  colored  people  intended  to  kill  every  woman  and  child." 

Many  such  threats  were  made,  still  that  did  not  deter  hun- 
dreds of  fair  ones,  participating  in  the  event,  namely,  inaug- 
urating a  true  Southerner,  once  more,  a  Democratic  Gover- 
nor. 

Our  Governor  being  recognized,  Capt.  Manly  could  now 
fairlyclaim  the  hand  of  the  woman  for  whom  he  had  await- 
ed so  patiently. 

Harold  and  Jenny,  with  their  family  arrived  in  safety,  and 
in  a  few  weeks  afterwards,  the  Captain  with  his  affianced 
stood  before  an  ordained  minister  of  the  gospel,  giving  sub- 
missively the  answers  to  questions  propounded  by  the  worthy 
man,  and  left  his  presence  as  husband  and  wife. 


166  ''BLUE  AND  GRAY 


Only  a  few  intimate  friends  were  present  on  that  occasion, 
but  among  the  number,  sitting  a  greater  part  of  the  evening 
by  the  side  of  Jenny,  was  her  faithful,  .good  and  kind  old 
country  friend  and  physician,  Doctor  Grumble  ;  while  Har- 
old seemed  intent  close  by,  entertaining  a  gray-haired  lad  y 
of  country  style  and  manners,  our  veritable  good  Aunt  Betsy 
Evans  that  was — but  now,  and  for  several  years  past,  Mrs. 
Doctor  Grumble.  Said  the  old  doctor:  '*  I  got  tired  living 
alone,  found  one  good  woman  beside  my  pet  here,"  alluding 
to  Jenny — "  so  I  pleaded  with  the  old  lady  like  a  good  fellow, 
and  though  she  told  me  to  go  away  with  my  nonsense — after 
awhile  she  swung  round,  and  now  to  pay  me  off,  she  swings 
me  round,  only  I  would  have  my  own  way  on  this  occasion, 
and  have  swung  her  here  to  have  a  glimpse  of  Louisiana's 
Governor,  and  to  see  Miss  Maggie  made  Manly." 

Doctor  Grumble  told  Harold,  and  Aunt  Betsy  informed 
Jenny  of  a  confession  made  by  a  woman  who  had  lived 
with  old  Mrs.  Doestick.  Parties  having  acted  wrongfully  they 
attempted  to  fix  the  disgrace  upon  an  innocent  person,  but 
"  truth  will  out,"  and  "  bad  blood  will  tell "  for  in  course  of 
time  the  whole  secret  leaked  out,  and  while  the  wicked  acts 
of  these  same  parties  were  repeated,  Harold's  name  was 
cleared,  and  that,  without  his  once  lifting  a  finger  in  the 
matter. 

And  now  we  are  drawing  near  the  close  of  this  little  story. 

Harold's  mother  had  written  time  and  again  begging  him 
to  return,  that  she  longed  to  see  his  face,  hear  his  voice,  and 
clasp  him  to  her  bosom  once  more,  ere  she  closed  her  eyes 
on  this  world.  She  also  wished  to  meet  his  wife  and  their 
children. 

Harold's  brother  having  been  dead  some  two  years,  he 
thought  it  was  his  duty  to  return  and  assume  his  duties  that 
were  paramount  as  lord  of  the  manor. 

When  their  little  girl  came  to  complete  their  happiness,  he 
enquired  of  Jenny  :  "  What  shall  we  call  our  darling?"  and 
she  replied  as  she  smoothed  back  the  curls  from  his  brow,  and 
kissing  it ;  '*  call  her  after  mother,  Elinor." 

'*  My  precious  wife  !  It  shall  be  as  you  say,"  and  their  little 


BLUE  AND  GRAT:'  167 


girl  was  christened  '*  Elinor  Clinton  "  by  a  true  messenger  of 
God,  a  young  minister,  that  had  been  Jenny's  friend  while  she 
was  yet  a  stranger  in  New  Orleans. 

Harold,  now  Lord  Clinton,  and  Jenny  his  beloved  and 
happy  wife,  and  now  mother  of  two  boys  and  two  girls,  are  at 
his  boyhood's  home,  with  his  mother,  and,  that  lady  thinks 
there  were  never  such  paragons  of  beauty  and  goodness,  as 
her  daughter  and  grand-children, 

Lady  Geneva  had  married  well,  and  lived  near  her  aunt. 

Old  Mrs.  Frisk  makes  much  ado  about  her  sister-in-law 
being  the  wife  of  an  ''  English  Lord,"  she  "  always  did  think 
Clinton  a  gentleman,  some  people  used  to  talk  about  him,  he 
did  not  have  many  friends,  but  she  wondered,  what  they  would 
say  now?" 

Oh,  ye  mercenary  hypocrites  !  'Tis  money  that  makes  the 
man  with  yoti!  'Tis  gold  that  oils  you7'  tongue  with  words  of 
loving  kindness  and  forgiveness,  whilst  biting  poverty  receives 
nothing  from  you  but  words  of  censure,  looks  of  scorn,  and 
the  cold  shoulder.  Do  you  imagine  that  your  deceit  and  du- 
plicity escapes  the  all-searching  eye  of  the  Almighty,  or  that 
you  or  I  can  pass  the  "  judgment  "  unquestioned?  You  may 
perchance,  for  a  few  years  deceive  the  world  as  you  pass 
through  it,  but  beware  !  beware  !  for  the  time  is  sure  to  arrive, 
when  the  mask  will  fall,  and  expose  the  distorted  grovelling 
features  of  the  whining  hypocrite,  to  the  astonished  gaze  of 
an  innumerable  throng. 

Mrs.  Frisk  could  never  forgive  her  sister  for  marrying  Doc- 
tor Grumble,  it  having  been  a  standing  joke  in  the  community 
some  time,  "  that  Frisk  couldn't  Grumble  worth  a  cent,"  but, 
*'  that  her  sister  Betty  Evans  could  Grumble  as  much  as  she 
pleased,"  which  joke  caused  Mrs.  Frisk  to  become  sorely  of- 
fended and  to  say,  '*  that  she  would  never  forgive  her  sister 
for  having  made  her  the  object  of  such  ridiculous  nonsense." 

The  faithful  Martha  lived  for  several  years  as  servant  to 
Mrs.  Winston,  and  afterward  married  a  wealthy  German,  and 
in  whose  home  Maggie  spent  many  pleasant  hours,  and  upon 
her  wedding  day,  both  Martha  and  her  husband  made  her 
some  very  handsome  presents. 


168  ''BLUE  AND  CRAY. 


Yellow  Charles  murdered  a  white  man,  but  as  ''  Justice  " 
was  asleep  at  that  period,  he  escaped  the  just  punishment  he 
deserved,  but  he  was  afterward  mortally  wounded  in  a  drunk- 
en brawl,  and  when  dying  confessed  that  it  was  he  who  set 
fire  to  Jenny's  lovely  house.  He  died  cursing  his  Yankee 
friends. 

"  Old  Dan's  owner  surrounded  him  with  comforts  as  long 
as  he  lived,  and  nursed  him  on  his  death-bed. 

Maggie  still  wields  a  power,  but  confined  to  her  own  sweet 
home,  where  she  and  her  brave-hearted  yankee  husband  live 
most  happily.  He  never  cheated  his  government  enough  to  give 
his  wife  a  solitaire,  or  a  diamond  cluster,  yet  she  is  contented. 

Harold  and  Jenny  can  never  forget  Manly  or  his  pastkind- 
ness,  they  had  invited  both  himself  and  wife  to  make  them  a 
visit.  They  accepted  the  invitation  without  ceremony,  crossed 
the  Atlantic  in  one  of  the  Cunard  steamers  and  were  met  by 
their  friends  upon  landing  on  the  hospitable  shores  of  Great 
Britain,  and  now  they  are  enjoying  themselves  with  those 
loved  friends  in  *«  Merrie  England  "  and  the  discarded,  but 
immortalized  Gray,  in  the  person  of  Lord  Clifton  once  again 
clasps  hands  with  the  noble  representative  of  the  Blue,  his 
warm-hearted  friend,  Fred.  Manly.  A  few  days  after  Cap- 
tain Manly  and  Maggie's  arrival  Harold  generously  invited 
all  to  take  a  trip  with  himself  and  family  to  the  Paris  Expo- 
sition. 

What  a  reunion  ! 

*  *  *  *  ***  *et*** 

Before  closing,  we  again  must  plead  for  charity  to  wield  her 
benign  influence,  and  throw  a  shield  of  tender  pity  over  her,  who 
in  her  f earlul  temptation  had  nearly  forgotten  that  marriage  vow, 
which  at  best  to  her  so  far,  had  proved  to  be  but  a  hollow 
mockery  ;  and  yet,  no  vow  is  more  binding  ;  none  more  holy 
or  sacred  ;  it  lasts  until  death  dissolves  the  tie  ;  and  we  believe 
not  in  divorce,  for  *'  those  whom  God  hath  joined  together 
let  no  man  put  asunder."  But  she  was  a  young  neglected 
wife,  so  young  at  the  time  of  her  marriage,  that  she  knew 
.not  what  she  did.  Yet  even  that  plea  does  not  excuse  her, 
for  the  holy  bond    or  marriage  vow,  will  not  admit  a  doubt 


''BLUE  AND  gray:'  1G9 


as  to  its  entirety,  and  must  be  kept  as  a  whole  ;  **  for  better 
or  worse,  richer  or  poorer,  in  sickness  or  in  health,  until 
death  do  us  part."  Enough  to  say  she  retained  and  valued 
above  rubies,  her  honor  and  virtue,  and  in  the  words  of  Sol- 
omon will  say .': — 

"  Who  can  find  a  virtuous  woman?  for  her  price  is  above 
rubies,  the  heart  of  her  husband  doth  safely  trust  in  her,  she 
will  do  him  good  and  not  evil,  all  the  days  of  her  life." 

Adieu  m}^  readers.  I  have  endeavored  to  give  you  a  page 
out  of  life's  history,  trusting  I  have  only  written  that  which 
will  cement  the  **  Blue  and  Gray  "  in  closest  friendship. 

I  will  ere  long  send  another  leaf  out  of  the  diary  of  one,  who 
is  a  lover  of  all  that  is  pure  and  true,  good  and  beautiful;  and 
while  my  tongue  or  pen  shall  ever  speak  or  write,  it  will  be  in 
behalf  of  him,  who  if  not  a  Tilden,  was  the  first  to  accord  to 
our  beloved  State,  the  sacred  right  of  self-government,  and 
which  is  now  raising  her  to  her  former  elevation  among  her 
sister  States. 

So  let  her  peace-loving  children  join  hands  and  hearts  and 
assist  our  much  esteemed  Governor,  in  striving  to  raise  our 
State  to  its  former  prestige  and  glory,  giving  peace  to  our 
bosoms,  offering  and  affording  protection  and  comfort  to 
strangers  while  in  our  midst,  and  forever  uphold  the  beacon 
light  of  Heaven's  greatest  blessing  to  mankind — ''  Liberty." 
And  forever  may       . 

The  light  of  Liberty  warm  each  breast 

With  generous  impulse  to  each  other; 
Adhering  truly  to  Peace  and  rest 

'Tween  North  and  South,  Brother  and  Brother. 

Amen,  repeat  day  after  day. 

May  frienship  weave  from  shore  to  shore 
Cementing  closely  Blue  and  Gray 

In  freedom's  Union  for  evermore. 

Peace — evermore. 

Louisiana. 


^.^., 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  T 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLIN. 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wilmer 
730 


